Rambling Beauty
by kellie-rose
Summary: Colletta had the whole of Panem at her finger tips. But she only wanted to make a difference and for her best friend to love her back. This is the story of Colletta Snow and how she survived one of the most turbulent times in the history of Panem. One-sided Finnick/OC.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but any OC's you see.**

**Summary: **Colletta grew up with the whole of Panem at her finger tips. But all she wanted was to make a difference, and for her best friend to love her back. This is the story of the other girl Finnick Odair couldn't live without and how she made it through one of the most turbulent times in the history of Panem. This is the story of Colletta Snow.

**Author's Note:** This is going to be AU. If you prefer things to be strictly cannon, then you don't need to read this. This is my first attempt at Hunger Games fanfic, so please feel free to rip me to shreds in reviews. I will try to update this regularly (and not abandon it like I did my other stories), so also feel freeto rip me to shreds in reviews if I don't update often enough. Other than that, please enjoy it! And don't forget to review!**  
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**Rambling Beauty**

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

_District Four_

_January Third, 2938_

Colletta had never in her life been nervous. She knew she could get away with doing anything, even breaking a law that result in death, simply on the basis of being the President's granddaughter. But her hands were shaking, her palms sweaty, as she watched Head Peacekeeper Livington, a vile old man who took too much pleasure in doling out punishment to the citizens of Four, gesticulate wildly, the wallet in his pocket peeping out temptingly. She could see no reason _why _she shouldn't just give it a little tug. It wasn't like he would miss the money. And the citizens of Four needed it more than he did.

She spared Livington one more glance to make sure he wasn't looking (he was eying the scaffolding where a dead body hung with a bit too much longing), and whipped her hand out before he noticed, sticking the bulging wallet in her shoulder bag. She emptied the wallet of its bills and coins in her bag, pretending to be looking for something (a camera, perhaps?) and slid it back in his pocket. How he was still oblivious was beyond her. That made for poor job performance, didn't it? He started to walk away, probably assuming that she was so riveted by his tour of the district that she would follow him. And she would've if it wasn't for the calloused hand that had wrapped around her dainty wrist.

Colletta jumped, assuming a Peacekeeper had caught her, her mind reeling for an excuse. But it wasn't a Peacekeeper. It was a boy, probably no older than her fourteen, his bronze hair ruffled from the wind. He smelled like the ocean—all salt and fish and something else that teased her nose. Her mind caught up with her senses and she relaxed, yanking her arm free from his loose grip. She didn't doubt that if he really wanted to, he could've never let go of her.

"Can I help you?" Colletta asked, trying to mask her Capitol accent. It wouldn't do for the regular citizens to know that she was there. Safety precautions and some other what not, she reminded herself.

"You know the penalty for stealing is death, right?" He asked, eying the cadaver in front of the justice building.

"Well," she said, turning around, "good thing I didn't steal anything." _I reclaimed it in the name of the people._ She was about to walk away when she was struck with an idea. She reached into the bag and pulled out a wad of cash. Anyone important would assume it was her own money. This boy, though he was well defined with muscle, clearly needed it more than she did, if the way his ribs stuck out were anything to go by. Or how tattered his clothes were. She took his hand and shoved the money in his fist. He looked shocked at first, then understanding dawned in his sea green eyes. She could hardly blame him for being surprised—that had to be at least ten high numbered bills. Satisfied with her good deed, she turned on her heel, ready to follow after the idiotic Head Peacekeeper.

"Wait!" He called after her, grabbing for her arm again. "Who are you?"

In a flash of inspiration, she lied, giving him her most dazzling smile. "Robin Hood."


	2. Chapter 1

**Rambling Beauty**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but any OC's you find.**

**AN: I was so shocked by the fact that people are actually reading this, and the fact that I already got a review, that I decided to go ahead and upload the next chapter! The one is a bit slow, I think, but the story definitely speeds up in the next coming chapters. Actually, I might end up having to up the rating. If that bothers anyone let me know in a review! I mean, eventually it will have to go up,seeing as Finnick is a main character and a lot of this will take place during his time in the Capitol, but for now I don't know if I want to raise it or not. But enough with my rambling! Read on!**

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

_The Capitol_

_Six Months Later_

Colletta always found the Victory Banquet to be the most tiresome event of the entire Hunger Games. Mostly it was because she had no choice but to attend. But there was always something vulgar about the dignitaries getting completely wasted and fawning over a kid who had just been forced to murder his peers. This year, the sixty-fifth games, was no exception. They crowded around the poor boy with feral looks of admiration, and something else. She could see which ones were planning to buy a night with him as soon as he was old enough. He was still so young; only her age, she reckoned. Maybe that was why she felt such a sudden fierce protectiveness towards him.

"Excuse me," she murmured, shoving through the crowd of admirers. When they saw who it was that was elbowing them, they moved out of her way like a parting of the sea. She had this effect on people, given her generally unpleasant disposition. The crowd around him was smaller now, the only people surrounding the victor being people too important to be bothered by her attitude and his mentor.

"Uncle Jack!" She exclaimed, trying to be heard over the din of the banquet room. "I believe mom needs a hand with something." In truth, her mom was probably lying down from her headache that the tumor had given her. "She's sick again."

The color washed away from her uncle's face as he turned away from the victor. He knew how bad it had been last time a tumor was found in her mother's brain. "Is she resting?" He asked, slurring a little from the pink drink in his hand.

Colletta nodded. "But she was asking for you."

He was gone in an instant, leaving Colletta alone with the victor, whose name she could not remember, and his mentor, who was watching her through inquisitive and wizened eyes.

"Finnick," the old woman said, drawing his attention away from some reporter that had showed up out of nowhere. "This is—"

"Robin." He finished, wrongly. Colletta blinked in confusion, something tugging at her memory. "You're the one who gave away all that money back in January."

That was right, she remembered. She had thought that he looked familiar. "My name's not Robin Hood." She told him, taking his arm and, rather forcefully, dragging him away from the mentor and, more importantly, the reporter. "It's Colletta Snow."

He stopped, yanking her back. "Snow?" He asked, eyes wide, looking her up and down. "That explains a lot."

"Like what?" She snapped. She was trying to help him and here he was insinuating things about her.

"Relax," he told her with an easy grin. He wrapped her fingers around his upper arm and started walking again. "I just meant, you know, how secretive you were. And why you weren't at all concerned with getting caught stealing from the Head Peacekeeper."

"Yes, well," she stammered, feeling oddly flustered, "No one has ever caught me before."

"So should I feel special?" He asked as they reached the lantern-lit balcony that over-looked the City Circle.

"Maybe," she shrugged, leaning against the marble railing. She could smell the roses from one of grandfather's gardens. "Look, I brought you out here for a reason."

"And what would that be?" He asked, looking out over the city. Colletta often wondered how it felt to see the view for the first time. She bet he felt like he was on top of the world.

"I come to you with a warning." She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening. One could never be too careful, even if they were they President's granddaughter. She didn't know how to start. Most people thought that Victors were free from worry once they won the games, but in reality they were probably the most chained. How did you tell someone that when they had earned what they had just escaped the Games? She felt him tense next to her and decided to go with bluntness—it had never failed her in the past. "They're going to turn you into a—" What was the right term to use?—"slave once you are old enough."

"A slave?" He echoed, turning to look at her. "Define 'slave.'"

"Someone who performs sexual acts in exchange for not getting the shit beat out of them. Or, I guess in your case, in exchange for your loved ones not getting the shit beat out of them." There. Bluntness always worked for her. But apparently it didn't work for him.

"You're lying." He said, narrowing his sea green eyes at her. "Is this some sort of joke?"

"Do you have anyone who depends on you?" She asked, evading his question. "Whether you want to believe me or not is up to you, but I thought you should have a heads up."

"Does everybody get this heads up?" He asked, leaning back on his elbows. He watched the party inside unfold, his expression suddenly less cheerful.

She shook her head. "Not really."

He looked at her, his expression hard. "Then why me?"

She shrugged. What had her motivation been? She had already forgotten. "It's a consolation prize," she finally said, "for being the only person in Panem to catch me in the act." She tried to give him one of her characteristic, dazzling smiles, but her heart just wasn't into it. She watched him turn back to the crowd and felt bad. Maybe she should have just kept her mouth shut. This was why she was never nice to people. "Do you wanna get out of here?" She asked suddenly, feeling like a caged tiger.

He gave her a funny look. "And go where?"

"Anywhere!" She glanced back at the banquet. By now everyone was too drunk to notice if the Victor was missing. "Come on. Rebel a little."

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><p>Finnick had been wary about leaving the Banquet; especially if the punishment was someone he cared about getting hurt, so Colletta had taken him to her favorite courtyard. The white roses surrounding them filled the night air with genetically modified fragrance and the sky was starting to turn peach. She had lost track of how long they had been away from the party, but figured it must be ending soon. Someone would be looking for both of them. She had no idea how time had gone by so fast; they had been doing nothing but talking. And for the first time that she could remember, Colletta found herself enjoying someone's company.<p>

"The Banquet will be winding down soon," she said, nodding to the sun-tinged sky.

"Should we go back?" He asked, his eyes unfocused. He looked exhausted. She didn't blame him; the Victory Banquet had started early in the evening.

"Maybe someone will come find us." She yawned, resting her head on his shoulder. She felt him stiffen underneath her for a second, but he relaxed quickly, resting his head on to of hers. "I could totally go to sleep like this."

She felt him laugh. "Me too. I don't think I've ever been this tired."

"Not even in the Games?" She asked, lifting her head up to gauge his reaction. He shook his head, though, his eyes closed. They both needed to find beds. But Colletta was perfectly content to go to sleep on the stone bench where they sat. "Finnick, we really should get back."

He sighed dramatically, but got to his feet, unsteadily helping her up along the way. If someone saw them in the hall, they might assume the worst, she thought vaguely, leaning into him.

When they got back to the banquet hall, most of the guests were leaving. His mentor rushed over to them when she caught sight of them and her brother was immediately at her elbow, ready to escort her to her bedroom.

"Where have you been?" Nicolai asked brusquely. He eyed Finnick in what she assumed was supposed to be a threatening manner.

"We were talking." She argued. "Is it so wrong for me to actually enjoy myself?"

He gave her a hard look before answering. "Considering that it _is_ you, yes, it is. What did you do? Blow something up? Make small children cry? Rob a bank?"

She laughed how close he was to being right with the last point. "Relax, Nicki." She slurred tiredly, knowing he hated that nickname. The people watching probably thought she was drunk. It was a vast improvement from their usual opinion of her, though, so she laughed again. "We were just talking. I took him to the white garden. I actually had fun. Don't ruin my good mood."

"You and fun don't go together." Nicolai teased. But he let the subject drop, choosing to glare at Finnick instead. She always found it odd when he became all protective—most of the time he was picking on her for not being the _perfect_ example of what a Snow should be.

"So, big brother, what new scandal have they made up about me tonight?" She asked. Colletta had always been the tabloids favorite victim ever since she accidentally set the curtains on fire at the fifty-ninth Victory Banquet. They had all harped that she had been drunk (even though she had only been eight) and unsupervised (also not true, but she never paid Nicolai much heed when she was younger).

He clenched his jaw, but ignored the question. "Say goodbye to your _new friend_, Letta. You know how father doesn't like you to be out of bed at this hour."

Like a petulant child, she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "I don't care what father says. He too busy with mom." Triumphantly, she watched her brother as his gaze soften. Their mother was wearing all of them down, but not one person in all of Panem could really blame her. They had taken her to every specialist in the Capitol, but with no luck. Colletta often wondered how the most powerful family in Panem couldn't beat out a stupid tumor.

"I saw that she was gone," Nicolai said softly. He looked like he was about to cry.

_Oh, really_, she huffed internally. She turned to Finnick, who was watching her wearily, although that could have just been the sleep trying to take him under. "I had a good time," she told him, sounding every bit like she hadn't. "I'll see you around." Before he could respond—she always had to get the last word—she spun on her very expensive heel and left him staring after her, just like before.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: If I owned this, I would've let Finnick live.**

**Author's Note: **Oh, look! Another chapter! Seriously, the only thing that made me finish this chapter so fast (I think it was fast) were the reviews I got on the last one. I'm not too sure how I fell about this chapter. I think I like it, but idk. Do you guys think it's too rushed? **  
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**Rambling Beauty**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

_District Four_

_December 18, 2938_

Colletta couldn't believe her luck. To be able to go on the Victory Tour, to visit all the districts; it was like a dream come true. In an uncharacteristic bout of optimism, she had packed half of her personal savings with hopes to redistribute it to the districts. She didn't know what the living conditions would be like in the other districts, but if Four was anything to go by, then she had a lot of money to hand out.

When the train spat her out at the seaside station, she started immediately for the town square. But her luck seemed to only run so far as her escort caught her by the arm and started leading her towards the car that would take them to the Victor's Village. She resisted the urge to threaten the woman with close cropped copper hair and sunny yellow skin. Her escort would just shrug any threats off anyways.

"I don't see why I need to be there while he gets ready." She said instead, pouting. Although, if Colletta was being honest with herself, she totally wanted to be there while he was prepped. But those were thoughts better kept to herself.

"You will be waiting in the car." Colonel Escort said robotically, shoving her into the waiting vehicle. Colletta simmered with slight anger; her grandfather was totally going to be notified of her harsh treatment.

"I'm not here as part of the Tour," she continued to argue. "This is my birthday present. I hope you know that you're ruining it. Does that make you happy, ruining my poor, defenseless birthday?" The escort didn't even twitch as she continued on. Sure, being a pain in the ass wouldn't get her what she wanted, but it definitely made her feel better.

As they drove through the district, Colletta watched the sunken faces of those they passed. They looked curious, and underneath that, angry and hungry. She couldn't just let them suffer like that. She dug through her canvas bag for a wad of bills, rolled down the window, and, before her escort could stop her, through the money out the window. At first everyone watched it fall, astonished, to the ground, but then there was a mad rush to pick up the bills before anyone else did. It was absolute bedlam. _Damnit! _Colletta thought, cringing as the Peacekeepers became involved.

"Your father said you would be trouble," the escort scolded, shaking her head. "If you insist on creating that sort of chaos, then I will be forced to send you home."

Colletta scoffed, sinking back in her seat. It wasn't like he meant for that to happen. If Colonel Escort had just let her go off on her own, then that entire mess would have been avoided. That was when the gunshots sounded, making her flinch. What had she done?

They pulled into the Village in silence, Colletta praying that no one had actually been shot and Colonel Escort scowling. The car came to a stop outside one of the houses, its lawn manicured and clean and entirely fake looking, parking right behind the car that had held Finnick's prep team and, unable to stand the suffocating negativity rolling off Colonel Escort, she jumped out before the doors could be locked.

"Miss Snow!" Her escort yelled after her. "Get back here at once!"

Colletta ignored her, sliding into the house with a group of cameramen. She could here Colonel Escort slam the car door, but then the front door shut, blocking out the shouted profanity that was directed at her. Feeling lighter and safer, she turned around, admiring the décor of the foyer. It was decorated with a sea motif. Little boats sailed around the wall paper and little waves tossed them around. A small table held a fish-shaped lamp and actual fishing hooks lined the wall as a coatrack. And standing in the middle, talking to a tall man with deep purple hair and gold lipstick, was Finnick Odair, looking like he had just rolled out of bed, with his hair sticking straight up in odd angles and nothing on but a pair of baggy pants that looked to be silk. Colletta couldn't stop herself from staring. She looked away, blushing, when he caught her eye.

"Snow?" He asked, as if he didn't recognize her, which was absurd since she didn't like to dye her hair and never wore make-up unless she was forced to by her mother.

"Odair." She smiled, looking right into those characteristic green eyes. She had seen some people in the Capitol try to imitate that color through contacts and even dyeing their irises, but no one could ever get it right. It was a color entirely is own. She looked away, trying to figure out why she cared so much about the color of his eyes. She had a mission to complete, damnit, and she wasn't going to let some guy that all of Panem was fawning over distract her.

"I didn't know that you were part of the Tour." He said, furrowing his brow.

"Well," she said distractedly, waving a hand vaguely through the air, "when there is chaos to be had, one must take advantage of it."

He grinned, but before he could reply, he was taken away from her by his prep team. Left to her own devices, Colletta started wandering around the house, feeling only a little bit intrusive. She dodged camera equipment and danced over cables as the crew prepared to do the segment on whatever talent Finnick had taken up. She was just about to ask what his talent was when someone grabbed her upper arm, rather roughly, and dragged her backwards.

"I don't know where you get the idea that you can just run away," Colonel Escort snarled, dragging her unceremoniously to the front door, "but you will listen to me from now on. Am I absolutely clear?"

"You're absolutely dead if you don't get your hands off me." Colletta snarled right back, yanking her arm free. "If you value your life, or your ability to speak, then you will keep your hands to yourself." She dusted herself off, drawing up to her full height, which wasn't really that tall. "You just wait until my grandfather hears about this."

"Yes, I'm sure he will be so thrilled to learn that you caused a riot to break out right in front of the justice building." She responded dryly, probing Colletta forwards with a very painful prod in between her shoulder blades.

"Keep talking," Colletta threatened darkly, "you may not be able to once we get back to the Capitol."

Satisfied, Colletta let her lead her back to the car where Peacekeepers were guarding either side. Really, she thought, she ought to stop trying to commit good deeds; things just always ended horribly.

It took about another hour or two for Finnick to be done recording everything. He was led by armed Peacekeepers to her car and got in quietly, eyes questioning. His mentor and his escort slide in after him, the latter looking flustered.

"Well, I say!" She started shrilly, her green hair bobbing sideways like a wig. "All this trouble! I do _not_ appreciate being manhandled."

"No one does," Colletta chirped, giving her own escort a stink eye.

"There will be a slight delay in getting to the train station." Colonel Escort informed then in a superior tone. "Some_one_ caused a riot."

Colletta had the grace to look sheepish, but there was no masking the mischief in her eyes. Even if it had been an unfortunate accident, there was still something to brag about when she got home. Only, she thought, there was no one to brag to, except for her sister who was too young to understand the implications. Her brother would scold her and when her father got the escort's report, there was sure to be some horrible form of punishment waiting for her. "It can't be helped." She shrugged, catching Finnick's eye. He shook his head at her good-naturedly.

"I don't know what you were thinking throwing money out the window like that."

Now everyone was staring at her, Finnick and his mentor with raised eyebrows and his escort with confusion.

"Why would you do _that_?" She asked, still fixing the wig.

Colletta shrugged and watched the ocean fly by the window. She had hoped to be able to go to the beach at some point, but, then again, she had hoped for a lot of things on this trip. When she was finally on the train, she went straight to her room and locked the door, no longer feeling like this trip was such a great thing. _Happy birthday, Colletta_, she thought,_ you've officially ruined everyone's lives._

It was only an hour later when dinner was served. Colletta wanted to skip it, but ended up being dragged out by her personal attendants (who were no doubt under instruction from her mother to make sure she ate everything at every meal). Everyone else was already there and eating what looked like a stew with a bed of rice.

"Please, try not to ruin anything else," Colonel Escort sneered, filling her glass with a deep red wine.

Colletta rolled her eyes and let the attendants fill her plate with food. They could make her sit down with everyone else, but they couldn't force the food down her throat. She smirked to herself, leaning back in her chair to make a show of not eating. That was her new thing now—not eating to protest the living conditions in the districts. Not that she had seen any of the other districts yet, but she knew that most of the citizens of Panem were starving. So while they starved, so would she.

"Miss," one of the attendants that worked for Colletta back home, Charlotte, said, eyes downcast, "your mother wants you to eat."

"Well," Colletta responded, pushing her chair up on its back legs, "when the people in the districts have enough food, then I'll eat."

"You might as well just give up on that," Finnick muttered under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear. She smirked and let the chair fall back on all four legs. If the escorts weren't there, she would've tried to get him to explain further. But she already knew why her efforts were futile.

"Miss," Charlotte tried again, "your mother doesn't want you starving."

"And why not?" She challenged. It wasn't as if her mother really cared about her health; it was probably just bad publicity that she feared.

"Miss, really!" The servant girl sounded exasperated. This argument was turning into a daily routine. "Just one bite, please!"

Colletta sighed. It was so hard to say no to Charlotte. The girl had been her personal servant since they were both little; she was the closest thing Colletta had to a friend. "Just one bite." Colletta repeated, picking up her fork. She scooped up the smallest amount she could and ate it, chewing slowly. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until she swallowed. Her stomach growled, begging for more, but Colletta was stronger than that. Putting down her fork, she looked pointedly at Charlotte. The girl shook her head and walked away to where the other servants had gone.

She couldn't sleep. Something about the movement of the train kept her awake. Colletta sighed and rolled out of bed, giving up entirely. No amount of make-up would make her look presentable for the cameras waiting in Twelve, but she was so exhausted that she didn't care. She crept out of her chambers, trying to be quiet, and started wandering down the narrow hallway. She had no idea where she was going and didn't stop until she heard a noise. It came from one of the bedrooms, she realized as she backpedaled. And then it came again—a soft moan that sounded was definitely coming from behind one of the doors. Colletta didn't know how to react. Assuming the worst, she was part mildly entertained (oh the sweet blackmail this could make!) but the rest of her was disgusted. But then it came again. Only, instead of a vague moan, it was an actual word. _No_. It sounded agonized. She looked around to see which door it was and knocked, hoping she got it right. No reply. Whoever it was moaned again and she knocked again. Still no reply.

Colletta looked around again and slowly tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. As quietly as she could, she opened the door and blinked through the darkness. He was asleep, having a fitful dream.

"Finnick." She said, trying to wake him up. She was sure he wouldn't mind her disturbing whatever horrible thing he was dreaming. But he didn't wake up. "Finnick!" She repeated, louder. Still nothing.

With a huff, she made her way to his bed and shook him hard. He awoke with a yelp, fighting back.

"Stop!" She hissed, covering her head with her arms. "It's just me!"

"Colletta?" He asked, sounding dazed. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep," she explained. "That sounded like some dream."

He blushed, looking down. "What were you doing in my room?"

Her mouth flopped open as she tried to answer, but she shut it quickly, pursing her lips together in a way that was vaguely reminiscent of her mother. "I was walking by when I heard you. Despite what the entire country thinks, you aren't _that_ attractive."

That shut him up, she thought, watching his shocked expression with a sense of satisfaction. It was true that she herself found him _very_ attractive, but there had to be someone out there who didn't. Colletta felt it quite necessary to speak on that person's behalf.

"So," he finally said, picking at the comforter, "was I really that loud?"

She smiled a crooked smile and leaned in closer to him. "I thought you were in here practicing for your slave days."

Finnick blushed again, pulling the blanket up higher around him. He didn't have a shirt on, she noticed, trying to keep he eyes off of his body. Oh, she definitely found him attractive. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," she told him with a wave of her hand. "No one can help what they do when they're asleep. I used to sleep walk."

That got him to finally crack a smile, even if it was a slight one. "I didn't peg you for a sleep-walker."

"I was so bad about it." Colletta admitted, sitting down. His bed, she noticed, was way more comfortable than hers. "Like, one time I woke up in the middle of the City Circle wearing nothing but a tee-shirt." She blushed at the memory. "Luckily it was really late and there wasn't really anyone out to notice me."

He smiled again, shaking his head. "I'm surprised no one rioted."

"Hey!" She slapped him lightly on his knee. "That was an accident!"

"What happened?" He asked, sitting up further.

"I wanted to go around handing out money lie I did last time, but the bitch wouldn't let me leave, so I threw it out the window instead." This was the last thing that Colletta wanted to talk about. She dreaded going home because of it. Her father would no doubt have already heard about it. She was just happy that he couldn't get her all the way out in the districts. Maybe if she went to her grandfather first, the punishment wouldn't be so bad.

He chuckled, shaking the bed. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

"What do you mean?"

"Robin Hood." He reminded her. "Where did you get that name from?"

She told him the legend; how the old hero had once been nobility, how he robbed from the rich and gave to the poor, how he denounced his rightful title in the name of helping people out. "I aspire to be like that," she told him, scooting up next to him so she could lean back against his pillows.

"An outlaw?"

"A hero."


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I only own my OC's.**

**Author's Note: **Sorry this chapter took so long to get up! It was really hard to right for some reason. It felt like it was a filler, but it isn't. I suffered major writer's block halfway through, though. But now it's written, so yay me! Enjoy, and possibly review?**  
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><p><strong>Rambling Beauty<strong>

**Chapter Three**

The next morning, Colletta woke up in a highly compromising position. Finnick's escort, whose name Colletta remembered was Tisa, had opened the door, expecting to find her Victor sound asleep, but instead found him curled up with the President's granddaughter. Her resulting scream was one that could wake the dead.

"What is going on in here?" She screeched, causing to two teenagers to jump out of their skin.

"It wasn't me!" Colletta mumbled, whipping the sleep from her eyes. "The nargles did it!"

Finnick, upon seeing that he was still safe on the train and not still in the Games, relaxed back against his pillows, pulling the blankets up around him. "What's a nargles?" He asked, stretching.

"Tisa." Colonel Escort was on the scene, in an olive green suit that reminded Colletta vaguely of the military of the old times. "Would you like to explain why you are screaming like a banshee?"

"Look at them!" She threw her hands in their direction. "Shaking up like common-"

"Hey!" Colletta jumped out of the bed, throwing Finnick an apologetic smile. "I'm not common! And we both still have our clothes on, so clearly nothing happened. Stop with your douche-baggery!"

The woman bristled, but Colonel Escort put her talon-like hand on Tisa's arm. "What are you doing in here?" Her escort asked, sounding tired.

"He was having nightmares so I came in to talk. That's all we did."

"And you decided to sleep in his bed as well?" She was being surprisingly judicious, Colletta thought. Maybe she had misjudged her.

But it was Finnick who answered, throwing his blankets aside to stand by Colletta. "We fell asleep talking."

Colonel Escort relaxed her grip on Tisa's arm and sighed. "Very well," she said, massaging her temple. "Come, Colletta, you must be dressed soon. We will be in District Twelve within the next few hours. And please, lock the door next time this happens. The last thing your parents need is a scandal of this magnitude."

Colletta blinked, momentarily stunned, before following the usually militant woman back to her quarters.

"I had a talk with your grandfather last night." Colonel Escort said as soon as they were out of ear-shot of the others. Colletta blanched, know what was coming next. First she would be lectured on how she besmirched the Snow name _yet again_, and then she would have to carry out some arduous punishment that would give her a major kink her neck (last time she had to scrub the entire floor of the main ballroom with a tooth brush). No doubt her family would think of something even more horrible for her to do in the Districts.

Colletta ran her fingers over the wall as she walked just behind the woman, anticipation knotting her stomach. "And?"

"And he says that you will not be making any more trips to the Districts if you cannot behave yourself." Colletta relaxed. Knowing her grandfather, he would consider that enough of a punishment for her. "Furthermore," she continued, eliciting a groan from Colletta, "your mother said we are to force feed you if you do not eat. Her exact words were that, valiant as your deeds may be, you will do no one any good by wasting away."

That surprised Colletta enough to shut her up for the entire rest of the morning. Her mother was possibly the coldest of the Snows and she was only one by marriage. All the woman ever cared about was her image and how her children effected it. Not once had she ever said anything to make Colletta think she might care about the people of Panem. And there she was, calling Colletta valiant and, in her own way, encouraging her to care. Colletta was so shocked that she barely noticed that she had eaten her entire breakfast. She didn't even notice that it was snowing until she was out in the open, off the train.

"You okay?" Finnick asked after she had bumped into him. He held her away at arm's length to steady her and gave her a good, hard look. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"What would you do if someone said something that was completely opposite of who they usually are?" She asked, looking up at him. "It might be the tumor, or she might actually care."

"Who?" He asked, looking over his shoulder as their entourage left them behind. "Are you okay?"

Colletta nodded, wrapping her fingers around one of his wrists. She didn't want him to pull away, and that thought scared her. "I just received an interesting piece of advice from my mother this morning."

"And do you believe that she doesn't care?" He looked her in the eye and for a second, her heart stopped. But then her mind went back to the problem at hand.

"I don't know." She bit her lip, thinking. "Sometimes she acts like we are her world. But most of the time she just… It's like we are a way for her to better her image in society."

Finnick chuckled, letting go of her and looping one arm around her shoulders so they could catch up to the rest of their group. "I don't see how anyone could view you as a way to get ahead in life."

"Well, it depends on the kind of life you want." She said, leaning into him. He was so warm and comforting. "If you want to get arrested by the time you're sixteen, then I'm a great way to get ahead in life."

He laughed again and ruffled her head in a brotherly way. Colletta frowned. She was coming to terms with the fact that she did not want him in a sibling-friend way. He looked so handsome in the large wool coat he wore, with his hair perfectly ruffled by the wind. When he laughed, she noticed, his eyes lit up like the stars. Now she was just getting cheesy, she thought, shaking her head. These feelings were pointless; even if he ever did like her back _that way_, nothing could ever happen between them. He had to be single to lead the supposed life of a playboy, which he would have no choice but to do.

"Where have you two been?" Tisa hissed at them when they reached the end of the platform. The reporters were going crazy around them. Colletta ducked out from under his arm and joined her escort before anyone got the wrong idea. They were just friends, if even that. She pouted, thinking hard again. She had never had a friend before and had no idea how to tell if someone was more than a mere acquaintance. She figured she would just have to be blunt and ask him when they got back to the train. In the meantime, she had cameras to woo and fake smiles to give. Not to mentions the thousands of bills sitting in her bag, just waiting to be handed out.

* * *

><p>She was drunk. It was only ten and she had already drunk her weight in wine at the banquet. This one, she noticed, was way different than anything the Capitol would consider a banquet. For starters, there was barely any food. And they actually had to sit down and eat it. There was no music, no dancing, no pickpocketing. It was beyond dull. And to make it worse, she had been sat next to Pompous Pius Pemperbee and Juliet Comb, both being major kiss-asses and scavengers of the Capitol's high society.<p>

"So, miss Snow," Juliet was saying, oblivious to how she was only just paying enough attention to grunt at the appropriate times. "Is it true that your brother plans to follow in Granddaddy's footsteps?"

Colletta, who was past her limit for this bureaucratic bull, snorted into her wine glass. Everyone stopped—even the music stopped—as she started cackling wildly. "You people are pathetic!" She spat, shaking her head. "Who bloody cares what my brother does? My grandfather is still the president. As long as he is, your loyalties should be to him. And for the record, no one in my family calls him 'Granddaddy.'" She went on cackling while everyone looked away embarrassed for the poor soul who had been on the receiving end of her tirade. Juliet was scarlet and stammering an apology, to which Colletta only laughed harder. She loved to watch people squirm.

"I think I'm going to excuse myself." She said in no one in particular and scooted back her chair. She stumbled outside and sat down on the front steps of the mayor's house.

Someone sat down next to her. Finnick, she realized. He looked dashing in the suit they had him in. The heavy wool coat he had did little to distract from that. Her head was spinning too much to concentrate on forming a coherent sentence, so she laid her head against his shoulder instead. At first he stiffened, but then he relaxed into her touch, his am going around her exposed shoulders.

"Aren't you cold?" He asked, his fingers tracing designs into her bare arm.

She shook her head. She felt like she was on fire, especially with him touching her. But she didn't dare admit that to him. "Aren't you hot?" She countered, leaning her entire body against him.

"It's snowing, Colletta." He picked up a handful of snow and sprinkled in over her. It was black from the coal dust that stuck to everything in Twelve. "I think it's physically impossible to be hot right now."

"It's Cole," she told him. "Only people I don't like call me Colletta."

He chuckled and shook his head. "So people you like call you Cole?"

She shrugged and looked up at him. "Only people I trust. And my mom."

"So you trust me?" There was a teasing edge to his voice. She barely registered the shiver it sent down her spine.

"I don't trust anyone." She went back to leaning against him and watched the snow fall all around them.

Neither one of them said anything after that until their escorts came out to get them. Tisa brushed the snow off of Finnick, chattering about how it was ruining his hair and that he shouldn't have left the banquet that was being held in his honor. Colonel Escort, meanwhile, only fixed Colletta with a stern glare. _We will talk later_, it said. _After your family finds out about tonight. _Colletta swallowed and nodded, wishing or all the world that she hadn't drank so much as she tried to maneuver the frozen path that lead to their waiting car.

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><p>So, can you tell how much trouble I had getting this out? Sorry it sucks so much and that it's so short. I promise the next chapter will be better!<p> 


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I only own my OC's.**

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><p><strong>Rambling Beauty<strong>

**Chapter Four**

_District Eleven_

If District Four was bad, and Twelve was desolate then Colletta didn't know what to make of Eleven. From the guard towers armed with heavy artillery that lined the border, to the hollow faces of the people they past, she felt as if she were entering a concentration camp, not a place where people actually _lived_.

"Are you going to be eating this morning, Miss Snow?" Charlotte asked as she laid out Colletta's outfits for the day.

Colletta nodded, though she wasn't sure she would have much of an appetite after seeing such cruelty. "It would be a sad thing for all of this-" she motioned outside the window- "to be for nothing."

Charlotte nodded and helped Colletta dress. "You were with Mister Odair again last night, weren't you?" Colletta blushed and the servant girl smiled knowingly. "He brings out the good in you."

Colletta scoffed as a simple green dress was pulled over her head. "There is no good in me!"

"If you say so." Charlotte's worn fingers deftly fastened the back of the dress and she stepped back. "What do you think? I pulled it especially to help you win over Mister Odair."

Heat rose farther up her cheeks as Colletta giggled at her servant's audacity. But as she looked in the mirror, she had to hand it to the girl—she looked amazing. Or as amazing as one could look with major bed hair and bags under her eyes. She had stayed up late with Finnick talking about everything and nothing. The dress fell from thin straps on her freckled shoulders to her knees, accentuating curves she lacked and making her look more innocent than she really was.

"Your hair is going to need some work, and the circles under your eyes will need to be covered, but I think by the time we're done you'll be as pretty as a rose." Charlotte was saying, brushing her messy hair from her shoulders.

Colletta smiled and looked out the window. But that only served to remind her why she was there. She was on a mission, and it wasn't to wow a boy she'd never be allowed to date. "Just brush out my hair," she said, turning away from the gallows they had just passed. "Nothing more."

* * *

><p>Everywhere she turned, someone was suffering from the crushing hunger. It was why she had asked not to be a part of Finnick's official entourage on the stage; she couldn't bare to witness it en masse.<p>

Colletta was wandering around the district, handing out small amounts of money, when she stumbled upon them. An old woman was clinging to a body with five young children around her. She was crying as she rocked the body- a woman, Colletta noticed- back and forth.

"Excuse me," Colletta called tentatively, "is everything okay?"

The woman looked up and took in her dress, made of the finet silk, and her general Capitol look, and snarled. "No," she spat, "everything is _not_ okay! My daughter is dead! Starved to death while you live large in the Capitol!"

"Oh my gosh!" Colletta cried, ignoring the slight on her lifestyle, her hands going to her mouth. "Do you need someone to call the Peacekeepers?"

The woman shook her head, still glaring. "I just want a few more minutes with my baby."

Colletta nodded, her mouth dry. She'd never been around death before. She swallowed, trying to moisten her throat, and started digging through her bag. "Here," she said, pulling out a wad of hundreds, "you need this more than I do."

The woman stared, completely taken back by her generosity. Colletta continued holding out the money, feeling increasingly awkward , until one of the kids, a little girl who couldn't have been older than four, ran up and snatched it from her.

"How much is that?" The old woman asked, pulling the girl closer. "It looks like a lot."

"It is a lot." Colletta straightened her bag and looked over her shoulder. "Are you sure you don't need a Peacekeeper?"

The old woman shook her head. "One of the boys went to alert the authorities."

At that moment, a Peacekeeper came around the corner, swirling a baton and whistling tunelessly. "What's going on down here?" He asked, taking in the scene.

Colletta turned to tell him what happened, but he had zeroed in on the little girl clasping the money tightly.

"Miss," he said, addressing Colletta, "is that your money?"

"No," she started, "well, it was, but-" He held up a hand to cut her off and she realized how this must look to him. Here she was, looking fresh from the Capitol with a little girl holding more money than anyone in the dirstrict would ever see in their lives like she was challenging Colletta to take it back.

The Peacekeeper turned to the body and then back to Colletta. "Miss, a lady of your standing doesn't need to see this."

"See what?" Colletta asked, refusing to back down. "The body?"

But he wouldn't answer her. Instead, he ushered her away. She tried to protest, to tell them that she had given them the money, but it was useless. When she got to the end of the street, she turned around to make sure they were okay. And she immediately regretted it as she watched the Peacekeeper pull out a gun and shoot the little girl point blank.

It felt like the world was falling apart all around Colletta as she fell to her knees, crashing hard into the street. She was vaguely aware that she was screaming, tears streaming down her cheeks, as he shot the old woman. She fell silent, too shocked by what she had just witnessed to scream anymore, as he walked away, looking quite satisfied with himself. She didn't know how long she stayed like that, on her knees in the middle of the street, but it was dark when she heard someone calling her name.

Charlotte, with Finnick in tow, stopped when she saw her boss in the catatonic-like state, causing Finnick to run into her. "Miss Snow!" She cried before running towards her. "What happened?"

"He shot them." She whispered, as if saying it made it all the more true.

"Who shot who?" Charlotte asked, kneeling down next to her. "Miss Snow, the train is going to leave soon."

Colletta looked up at her made with red, puffy, dead eyes. "Good," she said, her voice coarse, "let's get out of this Hell."

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Bit of a darker chapter this time around. Sorry to leave off with that, but sometimes it's too hard to resist cliffies. I have this story planned out halfway now, so there shouldn't be any more long waits like there were for the last chapter. Although, my computer is having some problems. If I don't update soon, it's because my computer keeps freezing on me and I am physically unable to upload, not because I haven't written anything. Until next time, when we get to see the aftermath of what Colletta has witnessed, I leave you to- hopefully- review!


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I don't own.**

**Author's Note: So, this chapter is a bit depressing. At least, it was depressing to write. Sorry again for the length and if I missed any errors.**

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><p><strong>Rambling Beauty<strong>

**Chapter Five**

Colletta felt numb when they got back on the train. She refused her dinner and went straight to bed, not even bothering to change from her dress and pretty gold sandals. She fell against the lust bedspread and couldn't even find it in herself to be annoyed at the over abundance of pillows. Removing them didn't make the bed more comfortable anyways. She closed her eyes and willed herself to fall asleep.

She hadn't been prepared for the barrage of images that flooded her mind, each one more horrific than the last. The gleam of the gun in the afternoon sun, the little girl's blood on the cobblestones, the woman's agonized cries. She wasn't sure when she fell asleep; the images only became more pronounced and vivid in her dreams.

Colletta was drenched in sweat, her dress crumpled and practically ruined, when she woke up sometime later to knocking on her door.

"Cole?" The knocker called through the door, sounding uncertain.

She relaxed, leaning back against the pillows. It was only Finnick. "Come in."

The door slowly opened to reveal Finnick, looking worried and fresh from a shower. His hair was wet and hanging in his eyes and he wore nothing but satiny pajama pants. Colletta was sure that the extra burst of speed her heart exerted had nothing to do with her nightmares.

"What's up?" She asked, sitting up. She tried to cover herself with a pillow- she looked absolutely dreadful compared to him- but it was useless. Besides, he had seen her look worse.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He said, closing the door behind him.

She patted the spot on the bed next to her, inviting him to sit with her. "Honestly," she said with a shaky voice, "no, I'm not."

"What happened?" He asked, settling in next to her. He wrapped an arm around her and she leaned into him before explaining everything that had happened. When she finished, there were tears in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

"I caused someone's death!" She sniffled, wiping furiously at her eyes. She refused to cry in front of him, especially when he no doubt went through worse in the Arena.

He shifted his weight so he could wrap both arms around her and grimaced, pulling a pillow from behind him. "Wow, your bed is really uncomfortable."

Colletta gave him a ghost of a smile. "Now you see why I always invade your room."

He scoffed in mock offense, putting a hand to his heart. "Not because of my amazing company?"

"What amazing company?"

He threw the offending pillow at her. "Come on, you know you enjoy this sight."

She ducked out of the way of the pillow and rolled her eyes. She only hoped he didn't notice the blush that crept up her neck.

"But seriously," he said leaning back against her. She snuggled into him, letting him comfort her from the evils she had witnessed. "That wasn't your fault. You told him she didn't steal from you. You can't stop people from being sadistic."

"But if I hadn't given them the money, then none of this would have happened!" She looked up at him and was surprised by how close his face was to hers. She could have kissed him if she wanted to. Quickly, she looked away. This was not the time to be thinking about that. "And who knows how many people died in Four because of me! I have blood on my hands!"

"At least you didn't actually kill them." Finnick said softly, looking away from her.

"Oh, Finnick!" She cried, burying her face in his chest. "You didn't have a choice."

The tears were threatening to come back again and this time she couldn't hold them back. "All I've ever wanted was to help people."

"I know," he murmured, rubbing her back.

They stayed like that for hours, holding each other while she cried it all out. Eventually they fell asleep in each others arms, comforted by the others company.

* * *

><p>The days passed in a blur of pain and numbness for Colletta. The only time she was even remotely happy was when she was with Finnick at night. The days, however, when he gave his speeches and schmoozed with Capitol officials were horrible. She often jut huddled up somewhere in the Justice Buildings until she could go back to the train and Finnick. She was disgusted by everything she saw, from the resentment in the people's eyes to the sadism of the Peacekeepers. Two was the worst, with its little Peacekeepers in training and the people so blinded by propaganda.<p>

So, it was with excitement that she realized they were heading home. The tunnel stretched out before them, making her giddy as they crossed through the mountains. Finnick laughed at her as she literally bounced up and down in her seat. She couldn't wait to show him her Capitol. It was a totally different place than what most people got to experience. And with her birthday just days away, it was bound to be the best visit he would ever spend in the Capitol.

"I can't wait to show you everything!" She told him as they exited the tunnel. The candy-like city loomed over them, adding brightness to her already bubbly mood.

"How?" He asked, warily watching the city roll by. "I'm only here for the night."

She blinked in confusion and then realized that he was right. For him, this was just another stop. For her, this was where she got off. They would be parting ways, she realized with a frown. "Oh yeah," she said, looking away with a slight blush. "I forgot. I'm just so used to you being around now."

He smiled. "I know. I don't know how I'm going to spend my nights now."

She tried to smile for him, but with the realization that he was leaving, her mood had darkened considerably. "I know. Maybe we'll both actually get to sleep."

She leaned into him, thinking of all the things she was going to miss. "Promise you'll call me?"

He laid his head on hers. "Promise."


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

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><p><strong>Rambling Beauty<strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

_The Capitol_

"Colletta Lexis Snow!"

_Shit!_ Colletta thought, grimacing as her father came stomping down the stairs at her. He was a particularly large man, with a barrel of a stomach and height that matched it. His peppery grey hair was cut in a militant buzz cut. With a strong jaw, and even stronger mustache, he was intimidating in one of his rare good moods. Now, however- with his red-faced anger rising to scary levels- he was absolutely terrifying.

"Sir?" Colletta answered, forcing herself to remain polite and respectful.

"Explain yourself!" He hollered so loud that she was sure the fine folks in District Twelve could hear.

"Well," she started, unable to help herself, "you see, after you and mom had Nic, you decided to try for another boy, so-"

"Enough!"

"Okay." Colletta whimpered in a small voice. She was glad that the entourages were watching, otherwise she was sure he would hit her.

"_This_!" He threw something at her- the morning paper- which hit her in the face. She fumbled with it, just barely catching it before it fell to the ground. "Explain to me why you are in the paper holding hands with a _Victor_!"

She looked down at the article and the accompanying picture. It was an innocent enough photograph; they looked like two friends holding hands. But the headline was what caught her eye.

"What the shit!" She exploded, her own temper matching her father's. "Look at this!" She shoved the paper in Finnick's hands ignoring how he was trying to hide behind the group from her father. She had expected him to find it funny, but instead he paled, looking up at her father in fear. "Oh, grow a pair," she muttered snatching the paper so she could read the article. _An Unexpected Love Story_. She sneered at the paper. What did they know? There would never be a love story between the two of them. Ignoring how her heart sunk at the thought she read on.

_It is believed that this years Victory Tour has stirred up more than the usual celebrations, writes gossip columnist Illonius Demobrov. After word reached this silver word-smith's ears about a certain First Granddaughter joining the tour this year, I had to simply find out why. And why I did find! For more turn to page 2A._

For possibly the first time in her life, Colletta was speechless. Part of her didn't know how to process this. Laugh or be angry? The other part of her had _too much_ to say about this. A, who knew that she was going to be on the tour ahead of time? B, where did they get the idea that her and Finnick were anything more than friends? And, C, did they not realize how much trouble this would get her in? She was more than capable of doing that without any help, thank you very much.

"Daddy," she squeaked, looking up from the paper to see her father had turned a lovely puce color. "I can explain this."

"Well?" He snarled,snatching the paper back from her.

"Finnick and I are just friends. Someone must have misinterpreted that." She said it slowly, like she was trying to calm some savage beast.

He thought this over for a minute before regarding her again. "Regardless," he said, sounding considerably calmer, though he was still quite discolored (Colletta hoped that he hadn't dyed his skin that way- it was just awful), "you have been associating with someone below your station. He is jut a fisher-boy. You are a Snow. And it is about high time that you start acting like one. Your mother has your punishment for you in the drawing room." With one more glare at Finnick, he turned on his heel and thundered away in the direction of the kitchens.

It took Colletta a few moments to shut her brain up, and then another few seconds to register that she had gotten out of that relatively unscathed.

"Well," she smiled turning around to face the shocked entourage, "I believe this is where we part ways for the time being. If you will excuse me, I have tedious things to do." And with that she too scampered off to find out exactly _which_ drawing room her mother was in.

An hour later found Colletta on her hands and knees, scrubbing with a passion at the already sparkling floor of the banquet hall. No one had believed her about how she hadn't been _trying_ to start a riot- how was she supposed to know that the people would react violently? According to her mother, she was lucky that her father didn't avox her for inciting rebellion, like he wanted to. She swallowed, wondering how it would feel to not have a tongue.

"Have you done _any_ of the vases, yet?" She heard her mother screech. Looking up, she saw the lavender-skinned woman was sporting hair the color of the ocean and a scowl so fierce that it could've scared off even the most fearsome mutt.

"Yes, momma," Colletta replied warily, stretching from her hunched position. On top of scrubbing the floors, she had to polish every vase in the mansion.

"Well," her mother snapped, "which ones?"

"Just the ones in this room, momma."

"Very well. Hurry it up, would you? You still need to get ready for tonight." Colletta smiled, trying to picture Finnick's reaction to the dress she was planning to wear for him. "I want this done before then."

Her smile was short lived. "But momma-"

"No arguing." The woman scolded. "If you can't finish it before the banquet starts, then you will have more than just vases to polish. Am I understood?"

Colletta hung her head. There was no way she'd be able to accomplish that. "Yes, ma'am."

Just as Colletta predicted, she didn't even get half of the vases polished (why did they have so many, anyways?). As she struggled into the skin-tight dress, she wondered what her mother would cook up for her the next day. She suspected that she'd get stuck cleaning up after the festivities all by herself. _Festivities,_ she thought bitterly. It was sickening how they were celebrating the barbaric death of children like this. What was worse was that the bloodshed happened outside the Arena. Colletta collapsed onto her gigantic, comfortable, sorely missed bed and buried her face into her hands, trying to block out the memories. How could she celebrate _any_thing with that kind of evil in the world?

"Colletta," a sharp voice interrupted her thoughts, "what are you doing?"with

Her head snapped up to see her mother, completely bedecked in gold. It was a good look for her, with her hair and skin color, she thought, for once impressed by her mother's taste.

"Nothing, momma," she muttered shoving her hair out of her face. "Is it already time?"

"Just about." Her mother smiled before looking her over. "What on Earth are you wearing?"

Colletta stood up to show off how good she looked. Usually, she didn't care how she looked at formal events like this, so she thought her mother would by happy that she was putting forth an effort.

Instead, her mother curled her lip in disgust. "You look like a common whore. Change."

Colletta watched her mother leave, dainty hands balled into not-so-dainty fists. Of course nothing would go right for her.

* * *

><p>Finnick was in the middle of a group of admirers, waiting desperately for Colletta to show up and save him, like she was so prone to doing. Or she would at least liven things up.<p>

"So, _Finnick_," one of his admirers purred, trying to sound sexy. The effect was ruined completely by the fact that she was old enough to be his great grandmother. "Tell us again how you killed the boy from District Two."

"Um," he stalled, trying to find an out from the conversation. He really didn't want to relive any more moments from the Games. Salvation, surprisingly, was found in the form of Cole's father.

"Excuse me, ladies," he said, flashing what Finnick supposed he thought was a charming smile; it only reminded him of a rabid animal. "I must steal the Victor from you; he _is_ still under age."

A few of the women looked horror-stricken at the idea of him leaving and, with Cole's warning in the back of his mind, he lost all desire to attack the buffet waiting for him along the walls.

"Is there something you need, sir?"

"A word, if you don't mind." Something told Finnick that even if he did mind, there would be no avoiding this conversation. He followed him out to one of the numerous terraces, a feeling of dread settling in his stomach. When they were alone, the older man turned to him, dropping the polite facade entirely. "What are you're intentions with my daughter?"

"Colletta and I are just friends." Finnick told him, trying not to sound like an indignant child. "Nothing more."

"Do you wish for there to be something more?"

Finnick didn't want to be having this conversation. He enjoyed Colletta's company, yes, but there would never be anything romantic between them. He told her father just as much. "She's just my friend, sir. That's all we'll ever be."

The older man looked satisfied with this answer. "If your intentions change," he said, leaning in threateningly, "don't forget that I know everything about your little brother." With that he left, his long, black cape billowing in his wake.

* * *

><p>Colletta watched her father rejoin the party, fighting back the tears that were stinging her eyes. She knew that nothing could ever happen between them, but knowing and hearing it straight from his mouth were two different things. And then her father threatened his family! Even if he ever developed feelings for her there could be no sneaking around about it now. <em>Whatever,<em> she thought bitterly, taking a deep breath, _it's just a stupid crush anyways._ She met his eye across the terrace and smiled, wanting to enjoy her last evening with him until the next Hunger Games.

"Colletta," her mother's voice warned sternly from behind her. _Right_, she reminded herself. She couldn't even be friends with him now that they were in the tabloids.

"Sorry, momma." She winced at how bitter she sounded. "I just don't see why I have to completely avoid him."

Her mother sighed heartily and massaged her temple. "Why can't you just behave yourself for once, Cole?"

Now Colletta was really worried- her mother rarely called her that anymore. "Momma, are you okay?"

"I'm-" She never got to say what she was, however, as she collapsed right on top of Colletta, the drink she was holding shattering at their feet.

"Momma!" She cried, loud enough for the entire banquet hall to hear. Colletta struggled under her mother's weight, but somehow managed to keep them both upright. All she could think about was how her mother's beautiful gold gown was going to be ruined by the puddle of wine and broken glass. Finnick was there in an instant, holding up her other side and the Nic was shoving Colletta out of the way. Without her mother's weight to support, she sunk to the ground, tears ruining her perfect make-up. Glass was cutting into her exposed legs and the hem of her dress was darkening, but she ceased to care.

And then someone was lifting her to her feet, rubbing her back comfortingly and leading her from the room. Judging by the strong fragrance of rose and blood, it was her grandfather, she surmised.

"She'll need medical attention," he said to someone in his calm, soothing voice, holding out the "s" a bit longer than even most Capitol folk. "Take her to the next room."

"But momma!" Colletta cried, trying to get out of her grandfather's arms. "She could be dying!"

"Your mother is fine, Colletta," he told her, holding her still. "She just took a little bit too much medication tonight. You, however, are bleeding quite profusely."

She looked down and saw that one of her legs was covered in blood. A jagged piece of glass was sticking out from just above her knee. No wonder why she was lightheaded and couldn't walk without help.

"So am _I_ dying?" She asked, the sight of blood making her feel even more panicky, and thus, irrational.

"No, Colletta," President Snow said as if he was talking to an especially slow child. "Mr. Odair, I understand that you are the guest of honor tonight. You should get back to the party. Thank you for your help."

"But Cole-"

"_Thank you_ for your help." He gave the young Victor a pointed look before the boy turned with an apologetic smile to Colletta and left. "Now, Nicolai, your sister needs help."

Colletta was going to protest again- she really wanted Finnick there- but felt something stab her in the back of the neck and everything went over all fuzzy.

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><p><strong>So, I'm terribly sorry that I haven't updated in forever. I don't even know how long it's been. There really is no reason why I haven't updated, other tha the fact that I'm the queen of lazy. Hope you enjoyed this one though. Lots of family time still to come in the following chapters! And look! Some Finnick pov! Review, please?<strong>


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.**

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><p><strong>Rambling Beauty<strong>

**Chapter Seven**

**_The Capitol_**

The weeks dragged on in a blur of boredom, random and pointless thievery, and, surprisingly, alcohol. Colletta's mother, as it turned out, really was okay. However, now her relationship with said woman was stronger, in the sense that it actually existed now. Her mother made sure to take her tea with both of her daughter everyday, as if to show the two girls that she was okay. Her skin was now a creamy white, which Colletta very much approved of, though her hair was still that obnoxious shade of sea green. Mina, she noted, had yet to start dying her hair. Maybe there was hope for her yet, she thought, leaning back against the cushions the servants had arranged for them. They were in Colletta's favorite rose garden. Her mother was going on about some upcoming society event while Colletta sipped her jasmine tea, watching the toddler chase after butterflies and, to Colletta's horror, the occasional wasp.

"I think he would he a good husband for you," she heard her mother say. She choked on her tea and started coughing.

"What?" She gasped between coughs. She really should've been paying closer attention.

"Honestly, Colletta, have you heard a word I said?" Her mother chastised. "I said that I think Julius Dalton will be attending the Annual Banquet."

"And you expect me to _marry _him?"

Her mother sighed, her tea cup clattering against its matching saucer. "You are reaching that age where you need to start considering these things. Julius could be good for you."

"How?" Colletta asked, taking another sip of her tea to calm her outraged nerves. "I don't even know him."

"That is why I have arranged for you to have tea with him next week." Her mother sounded _way _to smug.

Colletta leaned back into a gold and cream striped cushion. She needed something stronger than tea. "So, pretty much, you set me up on a blind date."

"If you want to call it that, then yes, I did."

Colletta didn't get a chance to respond as Mina came running up to them, tears trailing down her chubby cheeks. She was clutching her arm, which was bright red and swollen.

"Mommy!" she cried, flinging herself in her mother's arms.

"What happened?" Colletta asked, sitting up straighter as her mother smoothed the hair out of her face. "Did the wasp get you?"

The little girl nodded, officially bringing the conversation of Colletta's love life to a close.

"I told you not to chase it." She scolded as they went inside.

The next week rolled around much to quickly for Colletta's tastes. Especially since she was dreading it so much. As Charlotte dressed her for the afternoon in a light, floral patterned sundress, she couldn't help but to be nervous. What if he was actually decent?

"Please sit still, Miss Snow." Charlotte said in her usual calm manner. "He won't be impressed if you're hair is a mess."

"What if I don't want to impress him?" Colletta implored.

"Then you should still look stunning when you scare him off." She joked as she fastened some of Colletta's thick hair out of her face.

"That's not a bad idea..." She thought out loud, her painted-pink lips spreading into a mischievous grin. "Only if he's totally ugly and totally an ass."

With a sigh, Charlotte backed away to admire her handiwork. She had done her mistress's hair loose and curled, the strands in the front held back by a few discreet bobby pins and a mother of pearl barrette. Satisfied, she looked Colletta's reflection in the eye. "I have a feeling that you will be comparing him to Mr. Odair the entire time and, thus, will find him inadequate no matter what."

Colletta laughed, but secretly agreed with her. No one could compare to her bet, and only, friend.

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><p>All too soon, he was trailing Charlotte and her mother to one of the drawing rooms (he did not like the sun). She couldn't think of anyway to scare him off, though she doubted she really needed to do anything to accomplish <em>that<em>. She had tried to get Charlotte to sneak a peak when he had arrived, but the evil servant girl refused, saying she would find a reason to hate him regardless. In fact, Colletta had already found several, and she still didn't know what he looked like.

As she was shoved, rather painfully, through the door by her traitorous- but oh-so insightful- servant, she caught her first glimpse of him. Julius Dalton was all pale gold and white, sitting against a cream sofa like he owned the damn place. Right away, Colletta cataloged all the differences between him and Finnick.

Where Finnick was all muscle tone and strength, the boy in front of her looked like he could easily fit into her tightest jeans and still have room; where Fin was all bronze, this boy was washed out and _pale_. Pasty pale. He reminded Colletta of uncooked dough that was still covered in flour. But what was most important was where Finnick was carefree and fun, this boy had an arrogant tilt to his head that suggested he thought he was better than the rest of the world.

She hated him.

"You must be Miss Snow," he said with a slight smile when he noticed her gawking. He moved to his feet with a certain grace that only came with hours of practicing. "I am Julius Dalton."

"Look," she spat, ignoring his outstretched hand, finally managing to swallow back the bile enough to speak. "I'm only here because my mother had a lapse in judgment- try anything and I'll break your nose."

He looked taken back by her harshness for only a second before smiling broadly. "So the rumors are true then?"

"What rumors?"

"About you and a certain last year's Victor." He looked so smug that she wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid grin off his face. "I told Ninette that it was true!"

"Who?" She thought she knew the answer to that, but she was hoping with her every fiber that she was wrong.

"Ninette Jones." Julius clarified and Colletta felt like crying Her and Ninette had always been forced together in school and at social events, and the latter had always gone out of her way to torture and humiliate her.

"She put you up to this, didn't she?" Colletta didn't wait for him to tell her that this entire date had been one big practical joke before she socked him as hard as she could and stormed off, fighting to keep her tears hidden until she was in the safety of her bedroom with not even Charlotte to witness.

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><p>"Colletta," her mother started in a very measure tone, "would you care to tell me <em>why<em> exactly you assaulted Mr. Dalton?"

"Assaulted?" Colletta asked, as she tied a pink ribbon in Mina's hair. "I didn't assault him, momma. I broke his nose."

Her mother gave an exasperated sigh. "That counts as assault."

"Oh," she chirped, finishing the bow, "well, he _was_ a slimy git."

"You will be seeing him again." Mrs. Snow commanded. "He is a good match for you And he can't be _too_ slimy a git if he insisted on apologizing to you for being so rude." And with that, she stormed off, leaving two very confused girls in her wake.

"Are you abusive to your boyfriend?" Mina asked, so completely innocent that Colletta couldn't help but to laugh.

"He's not my boyfriend." She corrected, wandering where her barely three-year-old sister learned the word "abusive".

"Oh," she said, turning around to apply glitter to Colletta's face. "Is Finnick your boyfriend?"

"No," Colletta sighed, trying to stay still for Mina. "I wish he was, though."

"Why isn't he?" Mina asked, putting down the pouf she had been using.

"He just doesn't like me the same way I like him." She really hoped her sister would drop the subject.

"How come?"

"Cardemina!" Their mother, who had silently snuck back in, snapped, making both girls jump.

"Yes, mommy?"

"Leave your sister alone. She needs to go get ready for tea with Mr. Dalton.'

"That's _today_?" Couldn't a girl get a little warning?

"Yes, go get ready."

With a groan, she left the sanctuary of her sister's pink bedroom for her own. She made it about halfway there before her arm was suddenly jerked back, taking the rest of her body with it. Yelping, she landed very ungracefully on the hard marble floor, taking her assailant with her.

"Get off me!" She cried, shoving a very heavy, very squishy, person away from her.

"Now, now, Miss Snow," the chillingly familiar voice chided, "there is no need to be rude."

"What the fuck do you want, Julius?" She growled, climbing to her feet. He was early- it wasn't even an hour until her usual tea time. And judging by the glazed look of his bloodshot eyes, and the faint stench of alcohol, he was drunk.

"An apology." He sneered, grabbing at her once more

She backed away from him, looking frantically for something to defend herself with as he longed at her, pinning her against the wall. Weaponless, she did the only thing she could think to do. She pulled her head back, as much as she could, and , putting as much force as she could into it, head-butted him. With a howl of pain, he flew back,clutching his nose and screaming profanities.

Colletta herself was blinded by the pain, though luckily everything was still in tact. Massaging her forehead, she heard people running down the hall towards them.

"What is the meaning of this?" Someone asked in a tone that, if possible, was more pompous than Julius's.

"He fucking attacked me!" She exclaimed, dropping her hand to see an older version of Julius helping said assailant.

"Tha' ith a lie, fader," Julius slurred through his hands. Colletta saw quite happily that blood was streaming down his face. "Sthe tried do kith me an' when I sait no, sthe attacth me."

Colletta snorted at the obvious lie. This was something he wouldn't be ale to weasel his way out of And then she saw her own father, watching the scene with narrowed eyes and almost felt afraid for the kid. Almost.

"Colletta," he scolded, "what have you done?"

"What have _I _done? What the fuck have _I_ done?"

"Language, dear," her mother corrected from behind her father

"I was just walking down the hall, minding my own business, when Prince Drunkard here decided to pounce on me!" She was spitting fire, gesticulating wildly enough to break another person's nose, though this time it would be on accident. "That-" she pointed to Julius, "was self-defense."

"She's attacked me for no reason before!" Julius argued from where he was still in a heap on the ground. "She's psychotic, Mr. Snow. You need to keep a leash on her."

Colletta was gobsmacked. Out of all the things that anyone had eve said about her before, so one had ever suggested she be kept _on a leash_. Instead of being livid, like she thought she ought to be, she found that his comment actually hurt. Fighting back the tears, that stung her eyes, she shoved past her parents, ignoring their calls after her.

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><p><strong>Hey guys! It's been, like, forever! Yes, I still exist. No, I am not giving up on this. I just got stuck on chapter eight and I wanted to get that done before posting this, but I finally gave up on that, and decided to post this instead of nanowrimo. So, what do you guy, if I still have any readers out there, think of Julius? I swear, when I started this chapter, he was not going to be a bad guy. He was supposed to be sweet and want an arranged marriage just as much as Colletta did. But he decided to be a prick instead. Don't you just love Mina, though? So cute! <strong>

**I tried to catch all my typo and grammar fails, but if you spot any, would you kindly point them out in a review?**

**Anyhoosits, enough trying to justify and distract from y laziness. Let's review now!**

**Oh, and if I told you my cat ate the original chapter seven, would you believe me?**


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaiming disclaimer: Still don't own the _Hunger Games_. Sorry.**

**AN: So, this is just a quick update. I decided to scrap my current nano novel and just use Nanowrimo a an excuse to write more of this. Anyways, I know this chapter is short, but it gets the ball rolling as far as actual plot goes. Still no more Finnick, yet, though. :( I know, it hurts for me, too.**

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><p><strong>Rambling Beauty<strong>

**Chapter Eight**

_The Snow Mansion_

Colletta pounded angrily on her grandfather's office door. She knew he was working, and that he'd probably be pissed at her and thus unwilling to do her this huge favor, but she was to upset to care. Her father, after hearing Julius's side of things, had decided that Colletta had brought the attack on herself (for being too provocative and unladylike) and had let the fucker off with only a warning. Her mother had been distraught, going so far as to suggest that the boy be Avoxed, but Colletta thought _that_ was a bit too much. Besides, she had already broken his septum. He was already disfigured enough, why bother doing _that_.

"What is it, Colletta?" Her grandfather's tired voice came from the other side of the door. It opened slowly to reveal the old man tiredly massaging his temples.

"I trust that you heard everything?" She asked, all business. Her grandfather was the only person in the world who she was ever respectful to all the time, and it wasn't just because he was president. Yes, she disagreed with some of the ways he handled things, and thought that he should be doing more to take care of the districts, but Coriolanus Snow, the family man, was a bit of a hero to her. She could still remember when she was little and he used to put her up on his shoulders at official events so that she could see better. If shit really ever hit the fan with her father, her grandfather always backed her up and got her out of bbring in _extreme _trouble.

"Yes, and the Dalton boy is being dealt with." He said, holding the door open to let her in. This was new. His office was one of the only places in the mansion where she wasn't allowed.

"But father said-"

"Your father is a man easily influenced by others. If he is ever made president, then the whole of Panem will crumble."

Colletta was inwardly celebrating at this point. She had gotten her way and she didn't even need to do anything! Sitting gingerly in one of the plush chairs in front of her grandfather's desk, she allowed herself a small smile.

"So, what are we doing about him, then?" She asked folding her hands in her lap and sitting like the prim young woman her mother wanted her to be. Unfortunately, this was Colletta Snow, who could never be a prim young woman no matter how hard she tried, and who also had the luck of a dead man. As she squared her shoulders like she was taught, shaking her hair back out of her face, a strand of said hair got caught in the seam of the cushion, pulling tightly and painfully. She tried to yank her head free, but only caused more hair to get caught up.

President Snow hadn't taken notice of this yet and was lowering himself into his own chair. "It is being taken care of, Colletta."

She pouted, hating that she was being left out of the loop. She was a big girl, she could handle knowing whatever punishment the sick bastard was getting. "How?"

"Colletta," he warned, fixing her with a stern gaze.

"I'm old enough to be let in on these things, Grandaddy." She argued back, trying to get him to see her way.

"No, you're not." He told her, letting some authority leak into his voice. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do. Panem doesn't run itself, you know."

"But, Grandaddy-"

"You are dismissed." He said, going back to the paperwork on his desk.

With a sigh, she got to her feet, tugging the stuck strands of hair out of her scalp quite painfully. She knew a lost battle when she saw one. She just hoped that no one had been tortured or Avoxed, even if he did deserve it. She fumed all the way to her bedroom, rubbing her sore scalp, where she found Charlotte busy getting her outfit arranged for dinner that night. Not wanting to take her anger out on the poor girl, she kept walking until she found herself in a part of the mansion she'd never been in before. Curious, she tried the closest door and found it locked. The next door was also locked. And the next. She tried every door she could before finding one that was unlocked.

Colletta opened the door just wide enough to look in and was both stunned and disappointed by what she saw. It was as elegant a room as any of the others in the mansion, but this one was filled with boxes. They were all the same size and the same boring white color. But just because the boxes themselves were boring didn't mean that the contents were, too, she reasoned. With a quick look behind her to check that the coast was clear, she slid into the room. She felt like a spy as she sneaked around the room and at some point started to act dramatically sneaky. She rolled quickly across the room, standing up quickly with her hands together like a gun, and looked around for fake enemies. Once she felt adequately silly, she relaxed and opened the nearest box.

The box she opened held nothing but papers and files. A bit disappointed, she scanned the first leaf of paper from a random file. It was an autopsy of a person who had had a heart attack during a feast her grandfather threw. She tried to find a name or a date, but instead found something much interesting. The cause of death had been changed. She could see where it had been whited out. Curiosity now truly getting to her, she sat down and started rifling through the entire file. There were more medical records and such, but eventually she came across another autopsy report. Colletta compared the two and found that the first one had been a copy of the second. Putting the copy down, she read through the original until she got to the cause of death. _Poison_, it read, making her blood run cold. Someone had been poisoned at one of her grandfather's feasts. Her mind was dizzily spinning as she processed what that meant. Had someone tried to poison her grandfather, but got another person instead? And why had the cause of death been changed? Looking down at the report, she found the name. Apollon Gray. She knew the name. But from where?

A high-pitched beeping suddenly filled the room, making her jump. She let out a shaky breath as she realized that it was the alarm on her gold and silver watch, alerting her that she needed to go get ready for dinner. Running a shaking hand through her hair, she looked around at the boxes. Were the rest of them like this? Filled with the truth about fake causes of death? Her answers would have to wait for another time. Right now, she had to go find her way back to her room, or else face both Charlotte's and her mother's wrath.

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><p><strong>Did you know that there is no plural form of wrath? Again, I tried to edit it as best as I could, but if you find any spelling or grammar oopsies, let me know. They embarrass me to no end.<strong>

**Review?**


	10. Chapter 9

**Rambling Beauty**

**Chapter Nine**

_The Snow Mansion_

As soon as Colletta had finished her dinner (or watched everyone finish _their_ extravagant dinners), she asked to be excused and hurried as nonchalantly back to the Death Room, as she had dubbed it in her head. She had memorized the way there when she went back to her room and had no trouble locating it again. Locking the door behind her, she surveyed the room at large, trying to wrap her head around what was going on. There was a reason why that death had been changed, and she was going to find out what it was. Colletta settled down by the box that she had been in earlier and set to work, pulling out all the other files to see if there was anything else on Apollon Gray.

What she found instead were more cover ups. Almost every one of them had happened at feasts her grandfather had hosted. Some of the names were foreign to her, Like Cadmus Darington, or Reginald Horburt. But some stuck out to her like a sore thumb. Michelangelus Wright had been a political adversary of his some years back, for instance. She stopped reading the cause of deaths after a while after the millionth heart attack. It would look to anyone who looked to closely like a lot of people had heart attacks at her grandfather's feasts. Instead, she decided to try to find something that linked the victims.

Starting with Apollon's file, she carefully scanned each page for some ort of information on him, aside from what she already knew. She had thought about asking who he was at dinner, but thought better of it. She didn't want to e too suspicious, after all.

When Colletta reached a section on Apollon Gray's professional life, she felt like a complete idiot. How could she forget her own family history? Apollon Gray, she recalled, was the old Vice President. He had been lined up to take Charlus Spin's, the late President who ran the country before her grandfather, position, but then died of a heart attack at the feast her grandfather had thrown in his honor. It had been a horrible time for the country, taking place only a few years after the Dark Days had ended. Her grandfather had even given her a first hand account of the night.

Closing the file, Colletta shoved the box away from her. How many other people had been killed? She wasn't sure she wanted to know, but part of her needed to know. She started on another box and was at least relieved to see that the coroner had become more creative in his fake deaths. One man's death had been lamed on bad shellfish. She looked for the person's name and gasped in recognition. Peter Mars had been her favorite member of her grandfather's cabinet. She had been sad when he died, but now it was like someone had stuck a knife in her heart. He had been older, older than her grandfather even, and always had some story or candy or a small gift for her whenever she saw him. She didn't want to read anymore files.

Making sure she put everything back carefully, she left the room in a daze. Why were these even here? And what did her grandfather have to do with any of it?

"Miss Snow, are you okay?"

Colletta started at the voice and looked up to see Charlotte hovering around her, concern written on her face. "What?"

"I asked if you were okay." Charlotte repeated, feeling Colletta's forehead for a fever. "You don't feel warm. Should I send for tea?"

Colletta nodded. Tea had a way of making everything better. Or at least it made everything feel better. When the servant girl left, she changed out of her dress, which was now dirtied by a thin layer of dust, and pulled on the pajamas that Charlotte had been laying out for her. She was already tucked into been when the other girl returned, carrying a silver tray laden with a porcelain tea set.

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><p>The next morning brought with it a sense of duty to Colletta. After a fitful night's sleep, and several nightmares involving dead people trying to poison her, she decided that she owed it to the victims of the poisonings to uncover the truth about every one of their murders and figure out who had commissioned them. Something told her that there was more to this than just a couple poisonings, and Colletta was determined to figure out the conspiracy behind it all. Besides, although she wasn't a very superstitious person, she had a sneaking suspicion that with her luck, their vengeful spirits would come back and haunt her if she <em>didn't<em> figure it all out. With that in mind, she happily made her way down to breakfast, where she even let her mother fill her plate with assorted fruits and bread.

"Where is everyone else?" She asked, when she realized that it was just her and her mother.

"Cardemina is still in bed and the others are at work. They ate earlier." Her mother responded robotically.

"Oh." That made sense, Colletta supposed, taking a sip of hot coffee. "And how are you feeling today, mother?"

The woman let the faintest of smile ghost her lips. "Well, thank you."

After a few more strained attempts at conversation, Colletta was becoming bored. And very frustrated. If she could make the effort to eat a whole meal, couldn't her mother make the effort to connect with her daughter? She had even cleared her plate for once! She was about to excuse herself to go do some more uncovering before her morning lessons when her mother's fine china cup clattered to the table and her mother collapse face first into her hands.

"Mother!" Colletta gasped, rushing to her side. "Are you alright?"

She was debating calling for help when she realized that her mother was _crying_. Her mother, who only ever portrayed anger, was actually _crying_!

"Oh, honey!" She sobbed, throwing her arms around Colletta in a tight embrace. "I am s-s-so sorry for yesterday! I'm sorry I didn't listen to you. He could've raped you! And it would have all been my fault!"

Colletta was thrown. Not only was this the most emotion that her mmother had ever shown, but she was apologizing! For something that was only partially her fault, too! She hugged back tightly, trying to reassure her.

"Mother, it's not your fault that Julius Dalton is a pompous, arrogant, piece of shit slime ball. That is entirely his fault. And maybe some of the blame belongs to his parents for not teaching him any better."

The older woman pulled back, smoothing the hair out of Colletta's face. "I just want the best for you so much sometimes that I don't stop and think about how it will affect you." She paused and took a deep breath. "Cole, honey, I'm not going to be around forever. I don't know when the sickness will take me, but it will sooner or later, and I won't be there to take care of you. I thought that if I could get you to marry well, then you would be set. I-"

"Mom." Colletta interrupted before she made herself sick with worry. "Granddaddy won't let anything happen to me as long as he is around. And then after that, I've seen my inheritance as it stands right now. Believe me, I'm already set. And if I'm ever written out of the will, then I still be able to take care of myself. I'm only fifteen, I have my whole life to earn my own small fortunes. So that's not an issue. I don't need a man to take care of me."

Her mother smiled and Colletta relaxed. The last time she had been this worked up about something, she had been bed-ridden for weeks.

"I admire that about you so much, Cole." Her mother finally said, her eyes glistening with pride. "You are so much stronger than I could ever be. If I had had your determination when I was your age, who knows where I'd be now. Certainly not here, married to your father."

"I thought you loved daddy."

Her mother scoffed, drawing her hand from her daughter's cheek. "Colletta, the man I married is incapable of love. We only married because he was a Snow and I was the prettiest girl who was eligible to marry him. My parents were well connected within the Snow empire and I was too weak, and too greedy, to say no when he proposed to me. And I have been paying for that mistake ever since. You and your brother are the only good that had come from our union."

"What about Mina?" Surely the only actually good person in the family counted too, right?

Her mother blanched and started back-pedaling. "Siblings," she said. "I meant siblings, not brother." Colletta grinned at the opportunity to tease her mother, but the woman was well prepared for that. "It is getting late, Colletta. You have your lessons to get to. I will see you at tea."

As her mother left, Colletta couldn't help but to deflate a little. It would most likely be a while before her mother ever opened up to her like _that_ again.

After her morning lessons, Colletta decided it would be most prudent to not even go to lunch. She wouldn't eat anyways, unless her mother was there and guilted her into it. She invented a migraine as an excuse for her absence and headed to the Death Room. With a notebook in hand to jot down anything suspicious, she entered the room and got to work. In her Political Science lesson that morning, she had come up with a game plan for how to tackle the room instead of reading about past governments and what worked in them. It was the same thing every lesson. Control your citizens and you will have absolute power. Don't let them step out of line even by an inch or you will loose that power. She hated it and hoped that her grandfather would catch drift of what her tutor was trying to teach her. The lessons were starting to go into more detail about how to run an infrastructure like Panem lately, though, which had her worried. More than once her grandfather had let slip that he thought Panem would flourish in her hands. Did that mean that he was trying to set her up a his successor? She didn't want to run a country. Hell, all Colletta cared to do with her future was to get by without anyone's help.

Shaking her head to clear the cluster of thoughts that were getting her absolutely nowhere, she flipped open her notebook to the plan she had outlined (her tutor had been so proud of her for taking notes on her reading). First thing on her list was to find some connection between all the people. So far her only lead with her grandfather. She was still debating whether or not to ask him about the people, but was afraid to get him involved. What if he figured out what she was doing? He would put a stop to it, for sure. Clearly this room was supposed to be off limits. She wouldn't be surprised if the entire hallway was supposed to be off limits. With a sigh she got started on the boxes, opening the one she had left off at.

Colletta had gotten through the rest of the box before her hour was up. She only had two more lessons before she was officially done for the day. With a stretch, she put the box back where it had been and made a mental note of which box it was.

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><p><strong>AN: So, here's a nice little update for you: Rambling Beauty has gotten almost a hundred hits in only a week. We're almost at the six hundred mark, people. How exciting is that? You know what's not exciting? I don't know if any of those people liked what they read or not. Not a single review. It hurts my feelings. But I'm super excited that people read it!<strong>

**Okay, now that I've gotten review mongering out of the way, we get to see some real plot in this chapter! I know, you thought that this would be a plotless love story, didn't you? Well, Colletta has a life apart from Finnick, though he does make an appearance soon, so if that's the only reason you read this, then rejoice! You can start actually reading it now! Now that I'm writing this every day, I'm going to try to update once a week, if not more often. It depends entirely on how behind I am in my word count and whether or not I have time to edit.**

**Also, I've discovered some major inconsistencies. I won't go back and fix them until November is over. Probably not until the story is over, actually. So, you know, can you hang in there? Or if you spot something, can you point it out to me. I try to edit the best that I can before posting, but I know that I don't catch everything. **

**And now too end this monstrosity of an author's note. Be kind and review. **


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: All I own right now is a cat named Faith.**

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><p><strong>Rambling Beauty<strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten<strong>

_The Snow Mansion_

"Miss Snow, what is this?" Charlotte asked, picking up the notebook that Colletta had been studying.

"Notes," Colletta replied hastily, snatching the offending object back. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't go through my things, Charlotte."

The servant girl hung her head, truly looking hurt. Colletta had never snapped at her before, unless she was just joking. "Yes, ma'am. Do you want to where the blue gown I picked out, or the custom Tigris that your mother gave you last month?"

"Which looks better on me?" Colletta asked, feeling guilty. It had been two months since she had discovered the Death Room and she was really on to something now. There was the same group of people at every one of the feasts. Now Colletta just had to narrow it down to who and why and if her grandfather was in any danger. He was already in fragile health as it was. Though he was doing much better than her mother, who hadn't left her bedroom in a week.

"The blue, ma'am." Charlotte answered simply, pulling out the light blue ball gown. It was all sequins and crystals (and real diamonds) in the bodice with a skirt that was made of tulle and feathers that had been dyed blue. "it brings out your eyes."

"Then I'll wear that one." She sighed, rubbing her temple. Colletta really wasn't in the mood to go to any balls or galas or feasts or any party of any kind tonight. She wanted to stay with her mother or do more detective work.

The past two months had been Hell on wheels for the Snow children. Her mother's headaches had been getting worse and there were moments when she forgot who she was talking to. Sometimes she talked to inanimate objects and called them her children's names. It had been most painful for Colletta when the woman had spoke to a potted plant, calling it by her name, and then turned to her and asked who she was. She had learned the hard way not to correct her mother when she was having an episode that day. Her mother's screams still haunted her dreams. Her grandfather tried his best to assure her that she would pull through, but that was probably only so that she wouldn't have another freak out over it like she had at the Victory Tour.

While Charlotte helped her into the blue ballgown, Colletta tried to find something else to occupy her mind. The only thing she could really concentrate on was who would be there and who would be best to pick-pocket. She hadn't done it in a while. Maybe taking her favorite past time back up would cheer her up. And it wasn't like her mother could be disappointed, seeing as she probably wouldn't be lucid enough to hear about it. God, now she was about to start crying again.

"You're thinking about your mother again, aren't you?" Charlotte asked, leading her to the white vanity where all of her make-up and beauty products resided.

Colletta nodded, wiping at her eyes. It wouldn't be good to show that she had been crying. Only Charlotte was allowed to witness that, or even know that she was capable of doing it.

"Well, I know just the thing that will cheer you up." The servant girl said with a coy smile. "There will be a surprise for you at the ball."

"That makes me look forward to it _so_ much more," she said sarcastically. "I just can't contain my excitement."

"Clearly." Charlotte rolled her eyes, pulling Colletta's hair back into an elegant twist. "You _will _be happy about this, though. I promise."

"What? Did my grandfather have something completely embarrassing happen to Julius? He's supposed to be there, right?"

Charlotte looked up from the make-up she had been picking out. "They didn't tell you what they had done, did they?"

"Why do I get the feeling that you know everything? How did you find out?"

Charlotte smirked at the compliment, for to a servant gossiping was a recreational sport, and said, "Servant always know everything about their employers."

"Oh, come off it." Colletta snorted. "You're not so much of a servant as you are a hired sister. So, what happened to Julius?"

"Avoxed."

Colletta's jaw dropped, making Charlotte huff in annoyance. She had specifically asked for no one to get avoxed in the situation. She hated the completely medieval and gruesome act more than the next person. But then again, he had attacked her. Who knew what his intentions were?

"Miss Snow, please relax your face. You will want your make-up to be perfect tonight. Trust me." Charlotte told her, holding the brush threateningly.

While Colletta was happy to have a distraction from her own problems, she was sick of everything being so doom and gloom. She should, theoretically, have the perfect life as the President's granddaughter and possible successor. She should be rolling in money and dating a new guy every day and going to parties with the rest of the socialites her age. Things should be happier for her, she thought. So why was everything always so negative? She vowed to make the ball her own personal playground and have as much fun as she could, what with there being social parasites and people like Ninette Jones existing. So maybe she wouldn't be able to make everything one hundred percent fun and happy, but she decided that she would still shoot for eighty.

"Done." Charlotte told her, turning her towards her mirror.

Colletta smiled at her reflection. She looked like some sort of ethereal water spirit from mythology. Her hair was twisted up at the base of her neck and her make-up had been done in hues of light blue and silver. Diamonds had been placed at the corners of her eyes and caught the light with beautiful sparkles and a diamond tiara had been placed in her hair.

It really was amazing what this girl could do.

"Thank you, Charlotte !" She squealed, embracing the other girl. "You have done yet another fantastic job. Do you think I should go visit my mother? She would want to see me like this if she were lucid."

"It's worth a try." Charlotte replied, fussing over the way the dress rested. "Do you want me to go with you?"

Colletta nodded and the two girls were off, ignoring the staff members that stopped to gawk at her. Yes, it truly was amazing what Charlotte was capable of.

After discovering that her mother was passed out on pain meds, Colletta was off to the ball in her grandfather's limosine. This was one of the few events that her family didn't host themselves. The Annual Ball was always held a month before the Hunger Games, to signify the start of the bettings and to welcome in another successful Games. Colletta hated it and resented the fact that she _had_ to make an appearance every year. The only perk she could see about it this year was that it marked just another month before she could see Finnick. She wondered if he had gotten any better looking since January. He probably did. Was he still having nightmares? They spoke regularly on the phone when they could, but it was always about inane things, like the weather or what was on tv. No one trusted phone lines to not be tapped. Even if she was the President's granddaughter, being the President's granddaughter's _friend_ didn't seem like it would be a good excuse if either one of them accidentally said something treasonous. And she probably would.

Thinking about Finnick had her buzzing with excitement. She couldn't wait to tell him about her discovery. Maybe, if he had any free time (what did mentors do all day when not getting sponsors?), he could help her go through the files! She smiled to herself, leg jigging up and down, as she envisioned them together acting like spies. And then, since they would be alone, may be he would kiss her... No. She had to get _those_ thoughts out of her head.

"What's wrong?" Nikolai asked in hushed tones. Oops, she thought. She had been shaking his leg with her jitters.

"Nothing," she hissed, blushing. If he had any idea what she had been thinking about, he would never ask her what was wrong again.

"Nikolai, Colletta, stop whispering." Their father demanded. They complied and went back to staring out the window. But that only gave her more freedom to think about Finnick.

"Colletta!" Her father commanded, his voice harsh and serious.

"Yes, daddy?"

"Stop moving the car." He sneered, looking pointedly at her jigging leg.

"I'm sorry," she said, holding her leg still. "I had some coffee while I was getting ready." It was a blatant lie, but hopefully no one saw through it. She didn't need to explain to all the men in her family why she had been excited for Hunger Games season. That was just too... she couldn't even finish the thought. It would be better for Finnick's health if she didn't.

When they finally arrived, to everyone's relief (it wasn't her fault that her damn leg wouldn't hold still!), she waited patiently for the rest of them to exit the car before stepping out into the flashing lights. Within seconds, every camera was trained on her and reporters were hawking at her left and right. At first, she thought it was because of Charlotte's brilliance, and was fully ready to credit her servant to the press, but then she caught a few of their questions.

"Miss Snow!" They would shout. "Can you tell us about your mother's health? Why isn't she here tonight? Is it true that she purosefully overdosed? Is it true that she is in rehab?" She swore that the questions got worse as more were asked. Colletta looked to her brother for support. No one was hawking any of the other Snows, just her.

"They are only trying to get a rise out of you." He told her, putting his hand on her elbow to lead her past them. "Don't give in to them."

Colletta nodded, only enough for him to see, and kept her eyes ahead of her, not even stopping for the reporters that had actual questions about her outfit or something other than her mother. She made it about halfway down the red carpet before anyone became a serious problem. A reporter climbed under the velvet rope that was meant to _hold them back_ and started walking towards her, motioning for his camera crew to follow. She felt Nikolai tense next to her, ready to protect her if necessary. Even her grandfather and father had stopped from up ahead, her grandfather unreadable and her father looking murderous. She saw security rushing over out of the corner of her eye.

"Miss Snow!" The reporter yelled at her. "Colletta Snow! The Wicked Witch in person!" She blanched at the media's old pet name for her. It wasn't her fault that they had a habit of pissing her off. Maybe if they would mind their own business, she wouldn't snap every time they came around. "Tell me," he said, getting close enough to shove his microphone in her face. She had no choice but to stop for him. Next to her, Nikolai had let go of her arm and was trying to get him out of the way. "Is it true that your mother is dying? Is that why you had a mental breakdown at the Victory Feast?" The camera was shining bright in her face, disorienting her as her brother told them to leave her alone.

"No comment," Nikolai said, trying to shove passed the reporter. But the annoying little prick wouldn't move.

"Tell me," he continued to the confused Colletta, "is the reason why she isn't her because she's already dead and your just trying to cover it up? What kind of person can go out to a ball when her mother is dead?"

As if going from slow motion to normal speed, everything started to make sense to Colletta again. She looked down at the microphone and then up at the reporter, his words registering in her brain. "Excuse me?"

"Did you kill your mother?" He asked, his freckled face sweating under the hot lights as he grinned widely, knowing that she would react to that question.

Colletta looked over at her stunned brother, back at the microphone, up at the reporter, and then down at her fist. When had she made a fist? She thought vaguely as she held it up with a considering expression. She looked back up at the reporter and socked him as hard as he could. When he fell back, she stepped over him, making her way up to her grandfather, ignoring the look of contempt her father gave her. She knew that there would be consequences later that night, but for now, he wouldn't dare yell at her in front of the press.

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><p><strong>AN: So, another exciting night for the Snow family. Sorry that it took so long to get this out when I promised weekly updates. I don't even know what took so long; it's been written for at least a month. So, my dear readers, if you still exist, I am sorry. It's been a really stressful time in my life right now, though, and I haven't had time to even sleep. I will try to get the next update up before Christmas, but I'm not making any promises.<strong>

**Review?**


	12. Chapter 11

**Discaimer: Anything you recognize, I do not own.**

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><p><strong>Rambling Beauty<strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven<strong>

_The Training Center_

Nikolai refused to leave her alone. No matter how much she assured him that she was fine, he wouldn't budge. Normally, she would be thrilled that he was acting so protective and brotherly. They never really got to act like a normal brother and sister; he was always so frigid in public and too busy in private that they only ever spoke to each other at meals and in passing. And those barely counted as conversations, since things had been so tense with their mother. But when she wanted to go pick-pocket and get completely smashed- her coping mechanism for nearly every situation- she didn't want her older brother tagging along, learning about her devious ways, or picking them up. Though the chances of Nikolai Snow ever breaking a law were very slim.

"What is he doing here?" Nikolai asked suddenly, filling her with dread. The only person who popped into her mind was Julius. But Avoxes never saw the light of day, right? She looked up to where he was looking and gasped. It felt like her heart had dropped out of her body and splattered to the floor, only less painful and more elated-feeling. She couldn't breath. Oh, God, she had finally lost it! First she couldn't concentrate on causing a reporter bodily harm, now she was hallucinating that Finnick Odair was standing just across the room, smiling that smile at her. She nearly melted when he started walking towards her in a black tux, his bronze hair gleaming in the soft light of the ballroom. She noticed that it looked lighter than it had the last time she saw him. And his skin was darker, too. Less gold, more bronze. He could've been a statue of some bygone god if he hadn't been waltzing right over to her.

"Ohmigod," she breathed, holding onto her brother for support. "Nik, tell me that I'm not hallucinating."

"You're not hallucinating." He told her with a grin. "We really need to talk more if you're falling for Victors, by the way."

"We need to hang out more, period." She snapped back. He laughed at her and walked away, but not without reminding her that he would be watching. That was fine, she reasoned. It wasn't like she could jut jump Finnick's bones right in front of everybody, anyways.

"What are you doing here!" She cried when he was close enough. She flung her arms around him, smiling broader when he hugged back.

"I wanted to surprise you." He said into her hair. He was even taller than her now, which wasn't fair. She was wearing damn stilettos, for crying out loud! "I saw what happened outside. Are you okay?"

She shrugged, grabbing a drink off a passing waiter. Now that Nik wasn't hovering over her, she could get a smashed as she wanted. "We can talk about _that_ later, when there are less prying ears around. Actually, can we get out of here? I have so much to tell you that I couldn't say over the phone!"

"Like what?" He asked, eying her suspiciously. "If I know you as well as I think I do, no good can come from this. Where do you want to go?"

She grinned and knocked back her drink. Grabbing another, she led him through the ballroom. He may have stayed here for a few days the year before, but he had never been to this part of the building. It was reserved strictly for this ball. Which also meant that she wasn't sure where was safest.

"Let's _leave_ leave after I get a few more drinks," she suggested. No one could blame her for wanting to escape after what happened on the carpet.

"Take it easy," he told her as she down the second drink in one swig.

"You have no idea how sick and tired I am of taking it easy."

They found an area that was mostly deserted and sat down, leaning against each other like they did on the train. It was so comfortable to her, so routine. She didn't know how she went so long without him.

"So," he finally asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence, "what's up with your mom?"

Colletta chewed on her lip, watching people dance. "She's been sick for a while. Like, years. But lately, she's been really bad."

"How bad?" He asked, putting an arm around her. If anyone spotted them, it would be more fuel for media fire.

"Sometimes she doesn't recognize me." She sighed and realized that she was about to start crying. Again. "And she was doing so good! After the Tour, she went two whole months without a headache that was related to her sickness. She made every meal and even was able to have tea with my little sister and me _every_ day. Which reminds me, I haven't told you about Julius yet."

"I'll remind you later. Is he a boyfriend?" She nearly choked on her drink when he asked that, and was disappointed to note that there wasn't even a hint of jealousy in his voice.

"Ew, no. He's an Avox. He tried to attack me after I broke his nose when he was being a complete douche bag." She shuddered once more. "Anyways. How have you been?"

"Fine," he said. "Nothing compared to breaking noses and avoxing people."

She sat up straighter, offended. "Hey! It wasn't like I ordered it to be done! I actually had the heart to ask my mother to _not_ have him avoxed. Unfortunately for him, I neglected to ask my grandfather in time."

"Well," Finnick tried, hoping to smooth things over, "he sounds like he deserved it, if he attacked you."

She nodded, trying to get the last dregs out of her drink. "Do you want to leave now? I think I'm starting to become sufficiently buzzed. I think there's a back door somewhere."

"Where will we go?" He asked, looking around the room. No one had noticed them yet. The flashing lights and pretty, brightly colored people and drinks were enough to distract anyone from seeing them.

She thought about his question, unsure as to whether they could go anywhere dressed as they were.

"Home!" She finally said, finger sticking up in the air to accentuate that she had a brilliant idea. "We can change into disguises and then go out for our own little party of sorts!"

"Don't you have to stay here, though?" He asked, sounding worried. She didn't blame him, though. When had her ideas ever really worked out in the end?

She shook her head, enjoying the dizzy feeling that came with it. Yes, she was quite sufficiently buzzed. "I've made my appearance. It will be good for me to disappear in case any reporters come looking for me. No one gets hurt and I don't piss my father off any more than I have to!"

Finnick chuckled, rising to his feet. She would go through all the reporters in the world just to hear him laugh. Scrunching up her face at how crazy that thought was, she let him help her to her feet, dusting off her gown.

"You look amazing, by the way," he told her as they made their way through the crowd, looking for the notorious back door.

She blushed, leading him away from the crowd to a fire exit. "I know, Charlotte is fucking talented!"

He laughed and held the door open for her. It wasn't her luck that stopped any alarm from going off. Wasn't their supposed to be some kind of alarm? As they made their way to where the Snow limo was parked, waiting for its owners to come back to it, Finnick tugged on her arm, pulling her to a stop.

"Won't people recognize us if we are in the Snow limo?" He asked, eying the vehicle nervously.

Colletta hadn't thought about that. They _could_ theoretically walk back to the mansion, but they would be to conspicuous in their evening wear. And Colletta refused to walk that long in heels. It may have been a ten minute drive, but it was bound to be a nightmare walk. Not to mention explaining to security _why_ they had walked to the mansion in the first place, let alone why they were there.

"How did you get here?" She asked, turning to him.

"Um, I was brought here by a car. It's nondescript and black if that helps us out at all."

"It does!" She clasped her hands together in excitement. This was really happening. Now she just had to figure out an excuse to tell security. Or she could just tell them to mind their own business, but it was more fun to come up with an exciting tale of intrigue and car chases. Plus, she felt more like a spy if she was coming up with a cover.

They piled into the car and told the driver where to go. Colletta had decided to tell security that she was home to check on her mother, but when they saw her sticking her head out the window, they let the driver in, not even stopping to chat idly.

"What a waste of an excuse!" She complained, folding her arms against her chest. She leaned against Finnick, loving that she could do it and that he put an arm around her in return. She felt him chuckle as they wound their way around the circular drive way.

Finnick suddenly gasped, pulling away from her to look out the window. Perplexed, Colletta joined him. Had something happened? But there was nothing unusual about the Mansion's front drive. It was still the beautifully lit gem of the Capitol. Every little niche had been lit up with flood lights, from the famous statue of the armless woman to the rose trellises and the topiary, which might _look_ amazing, but in reality the lights were so bright that no one living in the mansion took any bedrooms near the front. _Damn bright lights_, she thought mutinously. They also made it incredibly hard to sneak out.

"What?" She asked, face pressed against her own window. She pulled back when she realized that she was leaving a mark and made a face.

"How can you actually live here?" He asked, his voice awestruck. "It's so unreal."

She giggled, pulling him away from the window. "It gets old after a while, trust me." Leaning back into him, "So, what should we do, now that we are free?"

"What _can_ we do?" He asked, his arm snaking back around her shoulders. She looked at him, a million ideas running through her head. But she didn't dare to voice them, lest her feelings not be returned.

"We can get absolutely drunk and go from there," she suggested. "I even know where we can get sufficient amounts of alcohol from."

Finnick shook his head, but didn't argue and all too soon they were in her bedroom, watching Charlotte sneak a bottle of Bourbon in with their tea.

"Miss, I think you should take it easy on the alcohol." Charlotte said as she watched her mistress take a long pull from the bottle.

"Nonsense, Charlotte," she waved her off. "After those asshole reporters, I need this. I deserve this after all my hard spy work, anyways."

"What spy work?" Finnick asked, taking the bottle from her. He took a small sip, grimacing at the taste. Colletta thought he had a rather cute liquor face. She was about to say as much when he repeated his question.

"I've been doing some of my own spy work," she confessed. Something told her to tread carefully on this subject, but she couldn't concentrate on why. "You'll never believe what I found!"

Snatching the bourbon from him, she took a long swig and began rutting around her things. The blue dress was becoming wrinkled and her hair was starting to come undone, but she was too far gone to give half a shit. With a triumphant sound, she resurfaced, holding a little blue notebook in the air.

"I've hit the fucking mother load." She told him, falling back onto the bed.

"Cole, I think you've had enough to drink." He was eying her wearily. "Come on, give me the bottle."

She complied, handing it over so that he could join her in drunken depravity and spy work. But instead of him drinking it, like she wanted, he gave the bottle to Charlotte, asking her to please get rid of it.

"What the hell, Fin?" She asked, leaning back on her elbow. She felt suddenly pissed off at him. She just wanted to have some fun; what was so wrong about that?

"You're drunk," he told her simply, sitting carefully next to her, so as to not ruin her dress anymore than she already had. "What's wrong with you, Cole?"

"What the Hell makes you think that anything is wrong with me?" She spat, trying to sit up amongst her full skirt. "You're the one being a Debbie Downer."

"What are you getting so upset about?" He gave up on not crushing her dress and leaned into her, drooping an arm around her shoulders. "I'm only trying to help you."

"Help me what?" She pushed his arm away from her, ignoring the butterflies that fluttered when he looked dejected.

"I don't want you to get in trouble." He confessed. "I just have a bad feeling about being here and not at the party."

She rolled her eyes. For someone who had survived a blood-bath, he sure was a little wuss. "That just means you're not drunk enough."

"Cole, really-"

"No, Finnick!" She shouted over him. She pushed him away and sat up. "You don't understand. Every day I have to be on my best behavior. I'm constantly in the spot light. One little fuck up and I never live it down. You at least get six months, _at least_, before the media fucking even thinks about you. Just once I want to not have ot care about every little fucking thing. I'm just sick of it!"

Finnick sat up and put an arm around her shoulder. He didn't let go when she protested, instead squeezing her shoulder in a way that was meant to be comforting. "Hey," he said, his voice soft and sub-dued. "If its that bad, then we can let loose tonight. I just don't want you to loose control. I've seen decent people become monsters after just one too many drinks. Not that you would, but people aren't themselves when they drink."

"I've never felt more like myself," she grumble, leaning into him despite her cooling anger. "My mom is dying, the media had made a fool of me, and I'm completely smashed. Not to mention that after that little stunt with the reporter, my father will porbably never let me leave the mansion again."

Finnick nudged her, giving her a smile to cheer her up. "Well," he said, leaning into her, "at least you don't have to be alone through it all."

Colletta looked up at him and realized just how close they were. Maybe it was because she really had had too much to drink. Or maybe it was because she felt so alone. Or maybe it was because he was so damn sweet. Regardless what made her do it, her motivation was clear as she leaned closer to him and pressed her lips against his.

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><p><strong>AN: Can you tell that it took two months for me to write this? <strong>

**I feel like I owe my readers an apology for such sporadic updating. The past few months have been Hell on wheels for me. Theres been a lot going on in my family life, and still yet more stress and drama to come. And with winter, my work load has majorly increased (I work at a barn and banketing twelve horses takes way too long), so I don't have much free time for writing. And when I do have free time, I'm so effing exhausted. Hopefully, I'll be able to get back in the swing of things once everything calms down, but who knows when that wil be. I'm not promising anything, but I wil try to get another update before the months is over. **

**Does asking for reviews really hep?**

**Oh, and ten points and a cookie to whoever can guess what statue is on the Snow Mansions front lawn!**


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the world most miscievous cat.**

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><p><strong>Rambling Beauty<strong>

**Chapter Twelve**

_Snow Mansion_

She didn't know what she was doing as she leaned into him, her lips pressed against his. What shocked her more, however, was when he kissed back. His arms snaked around her waste as they fell back onto her back. This was happening. This was really fucking happening! She let him roll on top of her and let her hands explore the body she only ever dreamed of touching. He groaned against her mouth, deepening the kiss, when she ran her hands down his back and—

"Ah-hem!"

They both jumped, Finnick rolling off in a panic, and turned to see Charlotte standing over them, hands on her hips, giving them a hard look.

"Mister Odair," she said, a ring of authority in her voice, "I do believe its time for you to head back to your hotel."

Finnick opened his mouth as if to defend himself and closed it, looking very fish-like, before nodding and rolling off the bed.

"I'll see you around, Cole," he mumbled, not meeting her eyes, and with a small wave, he was gone.

After the door clicked shut, Colletta turned to Charlotte, mustering up her fiercest glare. "What the Hell?"

"Your father is on his way home, Miss Snow." Charlotte informed her, striding purposefully to the bed. "I thought it best that it be me to find you in that position instead of him." Charlotte had a pretty good point, she admitted. But that didn't mean that she had to be happy about it.

"That had to be the most perfect moment of my life." Colletta sighed, falling back against her pillows.

"Sure it was." Charlotte rolled her eyes as she pulled out Colletta's pajamas. "Now, come get out of that dress before you ruin it even more."

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><p>Colletta was only conscious of two things: one, the pain was everywhere, roiling and throbbing through her body; and two, that she had had a very good dream where Finnick confessed his undying love for her and no one gave a damn, allowing them to ride off into the sunset on a white horse and a white beach. She woke up just before they made love and she hated her body for it. Though it was clear that the feeling was mutual. She opened her eyes and immediately regretted it. Shutting them quickly to block out the blinding light, Colletta rolled over, snuggling with her blanket.<p>

"Miss Snow," someone called. The person grabbed her shoulder and shook her gently, causing her stomach to turn. Colletta groaned and pulled the blanket higher over her head. "Miss Snow." The voice was more urgent. And it became suddenly much colder. The blanket had been snatched away, leaving her cold and exposed.

"What the-" Colletta began, jumping up before realizing what a bad idea moving was. The pain nearly sent her to her knees and bile rose up quickly. She made a mad dash to the bathroom and was grateful to make it just in time.

Soothing hands brushed back her hair and Colletta looked up to see Charlotte hold out a vile of clear liquid. Medicine. Colletta grabbed it and downed it in a single gulp. Modern medicine was truly amazing. They could make a cure for a hangover, but they couldn't fix her mother. Feeling much better, Colletta thanked Charlotte and leaned back against the elegant, claw-footed bathtub.

"Why did you wake me up?" She asked, pushing her hair back out of her face.

"Mister Odair has called on you, Miss," Charlotte replied with her usual calm. "And your mother is awake."

"Oh," Colletta jumped to her feet. "Well, to Hell with Finnick!"

She was about to run triumphantly out the door to go put family above a stupid crush, like good decent people do, when Charlotte called out to her. "What?" She snapped peevishly. This was a very time sensitive matter! Who knew how long her mother would be awake, and hopefully lucid, for?

"Clothes, Miss Snow?"Charlotte asked, a small smile playing on her lips. Colletta glanced down and realized that she was wearing nothing more than a thin tee-shirt and a pair of undies.

"Right." She said, heat tinging her cheeks. "That might be a good idea."

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><p>Of course, Colletta had to wait for her father to finish his visit before she could go in and visit. She didn't understand why they couldn't all go in there. They were family, after all. With a shake of her head, she slid down the wall, growing too impatient to pace anymore. What were they talking about, anyways? Everyone knew that there was no love between them. Colletta knew that her father lacked the capacity to love anyone, save maybe himself. She started to imagine scenarios in which her father had something to confess to her mother, like that he was really a different person, disguised as her father, who was sent to ruin all of Panem or maybe even to assassinate to President, but he had actually fallen in love with her and now couldn't do it and he wouldn't be able to live another day without a kiss from the one that he loved. But her mother, the proud woman she was, refused to kiss him, because she couldn't stand to be with her husband's murderer. She was quite absorbed with this day dream when someone sat down next to her, just close enough for their knees to touch, but not daring anymore space than that.<p>

"Earth to Cole," Finnick said, nudging her shoulder gently. She started violently, but saw who it was and relaxed.

"Hey," she said, trying to play it cool. How was she supposed to act after what had happened the previous night? Was he really into her? Or had that only been the alcohol talking? "I heard that you were around here somewhere."

"Yeah, I figured since last night got cut short that we could hang out again today." He said, giving her an easy, and quite devastatingly beautiful, smile.

She was about to ask him to define hanging out when the door opened and her father stalked out. Colletta swore that the hallway literally darkened when he entered it.

"Daughter." He said curtly.

"Father," she responded in much the same manner, only with a hint of humor. "Is she lucid?"

Her father's lip curled almost imperceptibly. "No," he said. His expression turned pained as he looked back at the door. "Colletta, she's not going to be waking up again."

"So then I should try again tomorrow?" She asked hopefully. Something nagged at the back of her mind, but she ignored it. He couldn't have meant _that_.

"Colletta," he tried again. "She wont be awake tomorrow either."

There was no way he meant _that_.

"Or the day after that."

No way. There was no way.

"I'm sorry, Colletta." Her father was saying, but she wasn't listening. Colletta couldn't comprehend anything in that moment. It was as if time had come to a complete halt. Nothing existed anymore. It was almost like with the Peacekeeper back in Eleven, only more pronounced. She saw her father's lips moving, saw Finnick getting up and talking to him, talking to her, waving his hand in her face, but she couldn't hear any of it. None of it registered. Reality simply did not exist. And then it came crashing down around her.

"She's…" Colletta whispered. But she couldn't finish her sentence. She couldn't say it. A single tear slid down her cheek as she turned to look at Finnick. Finnick, her rock. Her savior. The only one who could make this mess better. Her lip quivered and she felt herself loosing control. "Fin," she squeaked, fighting to take back control of her mind. "Please." The last thing she saw before everything slipped to darkness was his own pained expression and his arms reaching out for her.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**I really have no excuse for taking so long to update. I've been suffering some major writer's block, and totally forgot where I wanted this stort to go, so I just stopped writing it and... yeah. Sorry. I really and truly am. I hate it when a story I like doesn't update in a while. And then you forget what the plot was and everything. But then I randomly checked the stats to this story and saw that I had three reviews that I hadn't known were there and I just had to write. So, sorry if it sucks. I just wanted to give you guys something.**

**In other news, this update is right on time to celebrate the movie! Yay! Also, I originally wasn't going to kill anyone in this chapter, but I just couldn't help myself. Maybe Colletta will get a break from the misery next chapter.**

**Until next time, please enjoy and review!**


	14. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Do I really need to do this?**

**Author's note: I just realized that I'm becoming one of those authors who only updates every few months. But here it is, the hardest chapter to write yet! Also, I've been to busy to reply to the reviews individually, but I will be trying to finally get around to that. I aprreciate every review I get and always try to respond. Anyways, enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Rambling Beauty<strong>

**Chapter Thirteen**

_The Capitol_

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><p>The funeral was set for the next week. In a flurry of insincere apologies for her loss and well-wishing, Colletta watched the week fly by, just barely putting the effort into existing. She felt hollow. She felt like her mother's death had extinguished her flame. Finnick never left her side through it all. Even when he left for the night, she would sneak out to his hotel room and spend the night huddled against his side. He was her anchor, her everything. So of course she took it horribly when he wasn't permitted to attend the funeral.<p>

"But I need him there!" She tried to argue with her father.

"Go get dressed." He didn't even look up from the paper he was reading. "I have no patience for any more of your sniveling, Colletta. You're a Snow. Act like it."

She stared slack-jawed at him before turning on her heel and stomping away to her room. The room was uncharacteristically neat. Not that Charlotte didn't clean up after her, but Colletta was never much of a neat freak. The past week she had been too robotic to make much of a mess, though. Her father's words rang through her head. _You're a Snow. Act like it_. How exactly was a Snow supposed to act in this circumstance? Put on a good face in public and only let the facade slip in the privacy of the mansion? That seemed to be their answer to everything, after all. So why wasn't she allowed to grieve? She shook her head, clearing away her thoughts. There was just so much death in Panem. How much of it was her family's fault? She knew that the horrible Hunger Games were her grandfather's own invention. Was that how it went with her family? In light of her mother's untimely death, Colletta saw the world anew. Before, she was happy to ignore the darkness as long as she had her petty justices to deal with it. But if her family was at the root of it, then how much was she really changing? She knew the answer to that, but refused to except it at face value.

Her thoughts drifted to her secret project in the Death Room. All the same people attended the events where they died. And every single one of them was in her grandfather's inner circle. That included her father, as well. She couldn't see her grandfather poisoning someone, but her father was a whole different story. She wouldn't put it pas him to murder someone in cold blood. She hadn't visited the room since her mother's death, but suddenly felt that a visit was on order. Of course, she had a funeral to attend first.

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><p>The service was pleasant enough, with minimal press coverage and maximum grandeur. Bunches of gardenias were laid out everywhere, giving the funeral home a sweet scent. Colletta was happy that they had chosen gardenias instead of roses. They were her mother's favorite after all. She sat numbly through the service in a white sun dress, a wide-brim hat hiding her tears from the other attendees. Of course, there were no tears left. She was completely empty. Even when a snarky reporter tried to coax something vicious out of her, she just gave him an odd look and walked away. What was the point of it all? The only thing she had to look forwards to was her time spent with Finnick. She was so wrapped up in her misery that she nearly forgot about the Death Room. Only nearly, though. It wasn't until after she was in his arms (unfortunately, just as friends) that she remembered it. Colletta wondered if she should show it to him. On one hand, it would be nice to have someone to share her secret with. And when things got to bad for her, she could have her anchor there with her. But on the other hand, was it dangerous what she was doing? These boxes were just sitting there in an empty room, no protection around them. But the secrets contained in them could be world shattering if she used them correctly. Did she really want to drag him into that? It was with this welcome distraction that she fell asleep that night.<p>

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><p>Colletta shifted her weight nervously in the squishy jacquard armchair. Her patience was growing thin as she waited for her mother's lawyer. It was time for the reading of the will, and she was not to pleased about it. For starters, it took her away from Finnick. The bastard lawyer was already a good half an hour late, making her a good half an hour late for her rendezvous with him. She didn't know what she would do once the Hunger Games started in just two weeks. Or when the Games were over and he had to go home. Colletta pushed those thoughts aside, concentrating instead on her intense hatred of this guy she had never met.<p>

"I'm here," a voice cried out behind them. All four of the Snows that were present (it was Mina's nap time, the lucky bitch) turned in unison to watch the slimy weasel rush through the rather large and overly opulent doorway. He was just as Colletta imagined he would be; hair a color from last season slicked back with enough oil to give it a nice, blinding sheen and an expensive designer suit that he most likely wouldn't be able to afford had her mother not previously employed him. His teeth, when he flashed them a smile, were small and pointed, like some kind of reptile, and the green of his suit clashed horribly with his dark purple hair. "Sorry to keep you waiting," he continued, as insincere as possible, "girl problems and all."

Colletta narrowed her eyes, wishing her grandfather would do something. She was completely repulsed by this man. She saw right through his excuse (no woman in her right mind would come within fifty feet of him) and he reeked of cigarettes and cheap cologne. Judging by the looks on her family's faces, she wasn't the only one whom felt this way.

"May I offer my condolences?" The lawyer (she didn't care to find out his name and honestly couldn't think up a fitting nickname) asked as he sat down across from them in a high-backed leather chair. "She was a smokin' broad."

What was it that her father had told her? Act more like a Snow? Oh, she could totally do that. Especially with this douche pickle. "Are you mentally ill?" She asked brusquely. Everyone turned to her in shock. After all, she had been practically vegetative for the past week. "Do you not realize whose company you are in? We aren't some blind rich family that you can scam. We are _the_ Snows, you bumbling moron. We're _practically_ royalty. So, show some fucking respect."

The lawyer looked aghast at her before stuttering out an apology. Apparently he had forgotten that they could have him Avoxed with just one word. Her father, on the other hand, for the first time in he life, looked proud of her. She felt a sneaking sense of dread at that. Was it bad to have a monster proud of something you did? But no, she didn't have any proof that he was behind the Death Room. She shouldn't judge so harshly.

"Shall we get started?" Her grandfather suggested to the still silent room. His words broke whatever spell the shock of her outburst had put them in.

"Yes, well," the Weasel (that was a good nickname, she thought), stuttered, jumping into action, "I have it somewhere here." Colletta groaned internally. This was going to take forever.

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><p>An hour later, Colletta left the building and took a separate cab to Finnick's hotel. Her mother hadn't left her much. Just her inheritance, a request to eat more, and a small journal bound in lavender leather. She clutched the book tightly to her chest as she rode through the winding Capitol streets. Most of the Capitol was laid out on a grid, but the closer one got to the City Circle, the more jumbled the roads became. Finnick's hotel, the one were all the visiting Victors who weren't mentoring stayed, was right across the street from the Training Center. She looked for it out the window eagerly, her heart fluttering in her chest. She always felt like this when she was about to see him.<p>

Things hadn't progressed for them after the kiss. He had never mentioned it, so she never brought it up, lest he regret it. She could still feel his lips against hers, his body crushed against her body, his hands as they worked their way up and down in soft caresses. Colletta could only imagine what that would be like in the absence of clothing. Every day she worked up the courage to try it again, and every night she fell short, overcome with the fear of rejection. What if he didn't like her that way? What if he didn't like her at all and only hung around because she was the President's granddaughter? What if, what if. These thoughts always plagued her when she needed them least. But today, she had something to distract her from how much she yearned for him to want her back. Her plan was to show him the journal first, and then show him the Death Room. He was her closest confident and she felt that she owed it to him to show him her biggest secret. She had even gone so far as to stow her blue notebook in her bag. She had no reason to chicken out of _this_.

The car pulled up to the curb and let her out just in front of the spindly hotel. Just across the street, on the other side of the Training Center, the Snow limo was probably spilling out her remaining family. And just behind the Snow Mansion was the church where her mother now rested. Colletta took a deep breath, trying to push past the inner turmoil _those_ thoughts stirred up and turned her back to the Mansion. She had to be brave if she wanted her mission to be successful.

Her mother's journal was still clutched to her chest as she made her way through the elegant reception area. It was such a trivial item to bequeath to her. She was dying to crack it open, though, especially after her mother's startling revelations that one morning. She hadn't ever brought the subject back up again, but Colletta was genuinely curious what her mother would've done with her life if she hadn't become Mrs. Snow. Would she have been a completely different person, or would she still have been as vapid as she turned out to be? Unable to resist the temptation, Colletta slid into the elevator and cracked the book open. Surely the answers would be easy to find, right?

But instead of a diary entry on the first page, Colletta found herself staring at a letter addressed in her mother's neat script to herself.

_My dearest daughter_, it read, _if you are reading this, then I am no longer around to tell you this in person. But it is absolutely imperative that you know the truth. I don't know how much time is left, or how long I will be able to stay awake to write this, so I will keep this short. I am not the woman you think I am. I don't know how much you already know, but your Grandfather and your father are both evil men. Your father is behind my illness. He has been poisoning me for some time now. The medication he makes me take isn't medication at all. I only just recently found this out, and now the damage is already so bad that even if I stopped taking it I wouldn't be long for this world. I am going to ask for the doctors to go ahead and pull the plug. I am sorry for leaving you like this. But there are reasons for you father's actions and that is why I am writing this. I have been having an affair for the past few years with the Gamemaker Plutarch __Heavensbee. He is Cardemina's father. She is only your half-sister. And not only have I been in love with him the past years, but I have also been apart of a conspiracy to over-throw your grandfather. His reign, as I am sure you are already aware, is destructive and oppressive. You have seen the other districts. That is all his doing, to keep them in line so that we here in the Capitol may live as fat and grandly as we want. And to keep us complacent here at home, we are taught to take advantage of this. Food comes at the push of a button while a family in District Eleven starves to death. We dress ourselves in luxury and go to fancy parties while another family in another District goes the night with out even a candle to keep warm with. And we keep them from doing anything to help themselves by bullying them into submission. If they even think about rebelling, we show them our power by forcing their children to fight to death while they watch helplessly from home. It is disgusting. I know that you are of the same mind. You have always been _my _daughter. That is why I know that I can trust you with the information I am about to give you. There is a small faction of Capitol citizens that is not happy to sit around while others suffer. There is a rebellion in the works led by Heavensbee and a few higher up officials. I want you, as my dying wish, to take my place among it. You do not have to do this if it becomes too dangerous. The last thing I would ever ask of you is to put yourself in danger. But should you wish to join, as I know you do, Plutarch will be getting in touch with you at the Victory Feast this year. That should give you the time you need to consider my words and decide for yourself if you wish to join. Please, be careful with this information. Do no tell anyone. Not even Charlotte. And remember, I will always be watching out for you, even if you can't watch out for me. I love you. P.S. Your father is an evil man, but he is not the villain here. Don't ever forget that your grandfather has a dark past. Do not put to much blind trust in him, no matter how much you love him._

Colletta stared dumbstruck at the journal. _This_. This was life changing. She didn't know what to make of it. It was all to much to take in at once. Her own mother! A rebel! It was like her entire life had been turned upside down. She wasn't too surprised that Mina wasn't her full sister; how anyone could be married to her father and stay faithful was beyond her. It took her a few moments to realize that the elevator doors were closing after having been open for a good few minutes. Cursing, Colletta shoved her way through them before they could close fully and made her way to the end of the luxurious hallway to Finnick's room. She always loved the way that this particular hallway was decorated. The plum colored carpet was plush and her white heels sunk into it and the walls were done in alternating striped of a lighter purple and plum. Gold accents were everywhere; the frames of the mirrors and painting that were spaced every so often in between the doors, the little lamps hanging on the walls that cast the passage with a warm, gold light. It was beautiful. Finally, she came to a stop just outside Finnick's door and timidly knocked.

"Come in," he called from the other side of the lavender door.

She pushed the door open to find him reclined against the bed, not even dressed yet, with the TV flickering from the other side of the room. The room was decorated in all blacks and golds and did not suit him at all. The window, she noted, was set to a seascape and a school of brightly colored fish swam by. She had always been fascinated by the different scenes when she was little. But no she detested how artificial it all was. It seemed like everything was artificial, now.

"Hey," she greeted, her voice small. It dawned on her that she was on the verge of breaking down. It had been a very eye opening day, after all.

He looked up from the TV, which was showing some past concert or something, and immediately opened his arms. Without hesitation,.Colletta jumped up on the bed and huddled against him. She took a ragged deep breath and inhaled his scent. Underneath the artificial Capitol soap, he still smelled just as briny as he did back in District Four. It was lovely.

"How bad was it?" He asked, rubbing her back.

She wanted to tell him about the journal and everything that she had read, but her mother's warning flashed through her mind. She had to pull herself together. With a shrug, she pulled back from him. What was she supposed to tell him now? If she was really going to join the rebellion, then she couldn't show him the Death Room. That was sure to be something that was classified, right?

"The lawyer was a total jerk wad," she told him instead. "He was so heartless."

"Aren't they all?" Finnick joked, giving her a heart-melting smile.

Colletta smiled back, swallowing down her unease. She could figure everything else out later. Right now all that mattered was Finnick. Right now everything was fine.

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><p><strong>So, as always, I tried to catch any errors that I made, but I am only human. If you spot anything, please let me know in a review!<strong>


	15. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

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><p><strong>Rambling Beauty<strong>

_The Capitol_

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><p>Dust swirled through the air as Colletta shoved yet another box out of her way. She had been through half of the Room by now and still had no frickin' clue what was going on. A lot of people were dead, each one of them poisoned and each one of them covered up to look like a natural death. There were hundreds of files in the room, some of them dating so far back that they were from before her grandfather became President. Who could be behind such a thing? Her mother's warning was clear in the back of her mind, but there was no way that her grandfather was the one. Some of these people had been his friends! She shook her head, chasing away her doubts, and sat back on her heels. This sort of thinking was getting her nowhere. She needed a break. She had been in the Death Room long enough to have gone through six boxes. Surely someone was missing her by now. Besides, she needed to get a fresh notebook; her blue one was filled up already with her cramped notes.<p>

When she got back to her room, it was to find a very dashing Finnick stretching out on her bed, as relaxed as could be, flipping through a small book. It took her a few seconds (minutes? Hours?) of distractedly staring at the sliver of his abs that peeked through his wrinkled, ill-fitting shirt to realize that said small book was also bound in purple leather.

"What are you doing?" She cried out, jumping onto the bed and tearing the journal from his hands."This is private!"

"I'm sorry!" He said, throwing his hands in the air in surrender. "I thought it was yours."

"And that makes it somehow better?" She snarled at him, holding the small book close to her chest. "You didn't read anything, did you?"

Finnick shook his head, eyes wide, and said, "Honestly, I stopped when I saw it was your mother's."

"Then why were you going through it?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "Really, Cole, I didn't mean to upset you. I just…"

"You just what?" Colletta asked venomously. She was pissed. That journal was private; the information in it could get people killed! Her heart was pounding in her ears from adrenaline as she fumbled with the lock on the journal. It didn't work at all, but it gave her fingers something to do.

"I… we need to talk." Finnick finally admitted, hanging his head with shame. A slight blush colored his cheeks and he ran a hand through his untamed hair. "About the other night."

"What other night?"

"The night of the party. You know," he looked up at her shyly, "the kiss."

Colletta nearly fell off the bed. That had not been what she was expecting. She took a moment to compose herself before giving him an expectant look. Was this the moment she had been dreaming of? When he finally confessed his love to her and they rode off into the night, off to live happily ever after? But no, she couldn't run off. Not when she had the rebels to join. Not when she could finally make a difference in the world.

She tried to keep her voice steady and asked, "What about it?" Do you want more? She bit her bottom lip in anticipation.

"That was just the alcohol talking, right?" He looked so hopeful that it damn near broke her heart. That wasn't what he was supposed to ask. He was supposed to ask her to marry him! And then she would have said yes and then she didn't know what else would have happened; her fantasies never got past the wedding night.

She wanted to tell him that of course it wasn't, that it was real. Because their love was real— at least hers was. But instead what came out was, "Um, what?"

"I mean, that was just a drunk hook-up right? Cause your family wouldn't approve of me anyways and we don't ever see each other. And, I mean, we have a good friendship, right? Why ruin what's good?"

It felt like her heart had been shattered. Like someone had picked up her very fragile glass heart and slammed it as hard as they could and then stepped on the shards until it was ground to a fine powder. It wasn't that she didn't want to be friends with him, but why couldn't they be friends and be something more? Did it make her crazy to think that could happen? Somehow, through the daze of her cracking heart, she found herself nodding. Was she agreeing with him? Why was she doing that? Oh, right, because she was a fucking masochist.

He gave her a dazzling smile that only ground her heart into a finer dust. "Great! I didn't want to leave on uncertain terms, you know."

"Leave?" She asked, amazed that she still had the capacity for speech. "Leave where?"

"Oh." He deflated, looking crestfallen again. "You didn't know? I have to head back to District Four for the Reaping. They need all the Victors to be there. And since this is my first year as a Victor, I'm also mentoring."

"Ah," she said, not bothering to hide the disappointment. "I had forgotten about that." As if she needed anymore pain.

Charlotte was a lot of things. Being Colletta's personal maid required that much from her. She had to be patient, skilled in the ways of fashion and make-up, a therapist, and a best friend, to name just a few. But she was not untrustworthy. Nor was she stupid. She knew that Colletta was up to something and it pained her to be out of the loop. And it all was in those books she kept with her at all times. The girl had changed in the past few months, always off in some secret location ferreting about with her blue notebook. She could understand that her mother's condition had been stressful for her, but that was no reason to slight her friend. But Charlotte knew better than to expect anything more. This was real life, not some fantasy world where a servant like her mattered. She had been foolish to forget her place.

Charlotte was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't notice that she had been dusting the same spot for the past few minutes. It was all well and dusted now, but she continued on. It wasn't until someone cleared his throat behind her that she stopped, jumping in fright. The servant girl turned around, blushing in embarrassment, and looked up to see herself standing very close to Nikolai Snow. He was as immaculate as ever, his blond hair combed neatly to the side and his pressed suit wrinkle free. Charlotte felt her heart stop again as she met his dark eyes.

"Charlotte," he greeted her pleasantly, "are you unwell?"

"No, sir," she stammered,immediately dropping her eyes to the ground, "you just startled me is all."

He chuckled softly and took a step back to give her her space. "I did not mean to give you a fright." He told her, looking over her shoulder to the spot she had been dusting. "But you were so lost in thought. Tell me, what troubles you?"

"It's nothing, sir." She told him. It would be rude to speak ill of his sister to his face. Not that she would ever speak ill of Colletta anyways.

As if reading her mind, he asked, "Does it have to do with Colletta?"

Charlotte paled. If even Nikolai had noticed something, then Colletta truly was changed.

"Tell me," he continued, oblivious to her change in demeanor, "has she told you what was in that journal that mother left her?"

Charlotte shook her head. "She has kept it to herself, sir."

"She doesn't leave it anywhere you could get it?" He asked, leaning in closer to her.

Charlotte's heart thudded in her ears as he realized what he was asking. "Oh no, sir, I could never do that. I cannot spy on Miss Snow for you."

Nikolai looked genuinely shocked at her outburst. "Spy?" He asked, stepping away from her. He looked offended for a moment, sending another jolt of fear down her spine. Everyone knew that you don't offend the Snow family. "I would never ask that of anyone! I love my sister. I am just worried is all. Something in that journal has her stirred up. I want to know what it is so that I can help her."

Charlotte let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding in. He just wanted the same thing that she did. But he was wrong about one thing. She shook her head. "She's been acting differently since before then."

"How?"

"Well, it stared a few months ago." She explained, telling him about the notebook and how subdued she had become. "I'm really concerned, sir. But she insists that she is fine."

Nikolai sighed, running a hand through his hair. Charlotte wasn't surprised to watch it fall back perfectly into place. Sometimes she wondered if he was just naturally perfect. "You say this happened around when mother fell ill again?"

Charlotte nodded.

"Perhaps she has just been grieving this whole time?" He suggested, sounding for a the world like he didn't believe it himself. "I will talk with her soon and see if I can't get to the bottom of this. I don't want her to be hurting."

"Neither do I, sir."

He gave her a rough smile and stood up straighter. "Thank you, Charlotte. I know that Colletta thinks of you as a trusted friend. I hope that some day I might also come to see you that way."

She watched, completely dumbstruck, as he gave her a curt nod and left the room, no doubt to find his sister. What had just happened?

After Finnick left to catch his train back to District Four, Colletta wandered around the Mansion like a zombie. It felt as if something important had been ripped from her. How could she have been so fucking stupid as to think that Finnick Odair would be interested in her? He could have any woman in Panem. Why would he chose his dorky friend? She shook her head, trying to figure a way out of this mess. If it came down to it, having him as a friend was better than nothing at all. He was still her best, and only, friend other than Charlotte. He deserved to be happy just as much as she did. Fine, she thought, suddenly invigorated, if he wants a friend he'll get the best damn friend he's ever had. And maybe, just maybe, he's fall for her in the process, too.

She was making her way back to her bedroom to find Charlotte and tell her the news when she overheard her father's deep voice down the long corridor. He sounded pissed, which never bode well for anyone. She paused, wondering whether or not it was safe to go on. If he was really pissed, she could sneak passed him while he rampaged at the closest person. But if he was alone, then she'd be completely and utterly screwed. Slowly, she crept forwards, trying to gauge the severity of the situation.

"The girl must go!" He shouted at the invisible victim. "I don't care what the press will say. I'm not keeping that harlot's child here any longer!"

Colletta's jaw dropped. No way. No fucking way. There was no one else he could be talking about. He wanted to get rid of Mina. How anyone could want to get rid of such a sweet, innocent little girl was beyond her. But she had to do something. Mina was her fucking baby sister, after all. She hurried down the rest of the corridor, heedless of the danger ahead, and threw open the door that blocked her from the room her father was in.

"Colletta!" He shouted. "What do you want?"

"Are you trying to kick Mina out?" She asked breathlessly.

"I don't see how that is any of your concern." He dismissed, as if Mina was, you know, not related to her. "There are things in play here that you wouldn't understand."

She scoffed at him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Oh, I think I know exactly what's going on here."

He turned to her, the full brunt of his anger prepared to be unleashed on her, and snarled. "And what exactly is that?"

"I know what you did." She exclaimed. "To mother."

Her father took a shocked step back. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't that. Colletta saw her opening and took it, hitting him where it would hurt.

"I know about the affair. And I know that you killed her, or had her killed, in revenge." She thought it best to leave out the part where she called him a sick bastard. "Mina may not be your daughter, but she is my sister. If you try to send her away, or kick her out, or cause her any harm, I will go to the press with this information."

"You have no proof!" He cried, his voice going higher an octave.

"But don't I?" In truth, she really had no proof. But hopefully he wouldn't call her bluff. "It's your choice, father. Either go through with your plans or face jail time. Or worse."

She could see the gears in his head churning and whirring as he looked for a way out of this. But she was firm in this. Either he got rid of Mina, or he ended up Avoxed and rotting in a cell somewhere. They stood like that, locked in a stalemate, both refusing to back down for a few minutes before he finally crumbled, visibly collapsing with a defeated sigh.

"Very well," he said, sounding exhausted. Colletta could only imagine how exhausting being so angry all the time was. "You win this time, daughter. Mina will stay."

Colletta had to hold in a victory dance as she turned away from him. How the heck had she survived that? She was rather proud of herself as she made her way to her wing of the Mansion.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> So, I've had this chapter, and the next two, written for about a month now. I was attempting to do CampNano last month to help get ahead on this story, but it goes without say that I failed (mostly because after the first few days I forgot that I was participating, and then just felt too much shame to go on). Lots going on in this, and the next, chapter. I hope you enjoyed it! You guys have no clue how many people wanted Colletta to tell Finnick. I feel so evil not having her do it (in this chapter anyways). Anyhoo, go review now! They provide food for starving authors. And keep an eye out for the next chapter some time soon. Maybe later today!


	16. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.**

**AN: It's a short one this week guys. Sorry about that, but it was an appropriate cut-off point and this chapter does move the plot forwards. Enjoy and don't forget to review!**

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><p><strong>Rambling Beauty<strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen<strong>

_Snow Mansion_

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><p>The next morning found Colletta out in her favorite garden with Mina, sipping tea and munching on some delicious pastry. It was an experiment of the head chef's and Colletta had to admit; the woman was a genius. The little girl was running around like a mad woman, giggling wildly. Oh, to be that young again, Colletta thought wistfully. She missed the carefree days of youth. Back before everyone had their expectations of her. Back before everything turned so bleak. She let out a small sigh and shook her head. No, she had no room for those thoughts. True, things might be harder now, but at least she was going to make a difference now. She had decided as she lay awake the previous night that she really was going to join the rebels. It just seemed as natural as breathing. Now all she had to do was find Heavensbee.<p>

"There you are." Colletta jumped out of her skin and looked up to find her brother standing over her triumphantly.

"Um, here I am?" She tried, puzzled.

"Colletta," he started, sitting down beside her, "you have no idea how long I have been searching for you."

"Why?"

"To talk," Nikolai responded matter-of-factly. "We haven't spent much time together lately."

"Yeah well," Colletta said, suddenly defensive. Something felt very not right. "You're always busy."

"And you aren't?"

He had a good point. "We're all always busy." She ducked her head to the side. She had been neglecting her family in order to spend more time with Finnick.

"That's besides the point," he said, as if picking up on her guilt. "How have you been, you know, handling things?"

Colletta thought he could've been a little bit less obvious. Really, he might as well have been wearing a sign that said, I fear that you are going to have another break down. She shook her head with disappointment. And here she thought that he was being brotherly. "I'm fine, Nik. You don't need to hover over me like this. And make sure you tell everyone else that. Colletta Snow is not on the verge of a mental breakdown."

"That's good to know," he said, clearly agitated. "But that wasn't why I was asking. We're all still grieving. It's perfectly normal."

"Really?" She spat. "Because according to our dear father, its a sin for a Snow to feel real human emotions." She picked angrily at her pastry as she spoke, tearing the thing to shreds.

Nikolai barked out a laugh, something that seemed to be getting rarer these days. She often feared that he would end up being a clone of their father. It was good to know that he still had some laughter in him. "Isn't that the truth. You know what he told me the other day?" Colletta shook her head. "He told me that I shouldn't get upset over mother's death. That she deserved it." He sneered at the memory, baring his teeth like a wolf. "Can you believe that?"

Yes, she could. She wanted to tell him about Mina, about the affair, but she didn't know if it was safe to do so. Her mother had been quite clear that she was to tell no one of the letter. But her brother deserved to know.

"What if he had a good reason for thinking that?" She asked in a quiet voice. Colletta looked up at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him to already know. These secrets were already becoming too big a burden. What would she do when she had even more deadly secrets?

"And what reason would warrant that?" Nikolai challenged, meeting her gaze head on. "Colletta, what do you know that I don't?"

"A lot." She sighed, breaking away from his gaze. She looked out past him to where Mina was still playing, the perfect picture of innocence. "I hope that someday Mina doesn't have to know the true burden of being a Snow."

Nikolai glanced over to the little girl, a sad smile playing on his lips. "So do I."

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><p>Nikolai and Colletta ended up spending much of the morning together, trying to catch up on each other's busy lives. It wasn't until the sun was hanging fat and heavy directly over head that they went inside to avoided it's beating rays, Mina in tow. As the little girl begrudgingly went off for her afternoon nap, the two parted ways with plans to join together the next morning. It was only a week before the Reapings and while their grandfather was up to his neck with work, the up-coming festivities left the younger two Snows free from their usual responsibilities.<p>

Colletta was headed to her room when she realized something was off. She stopped and looked around, but could see nothing out of the ordinary. She shrugged it off and kept walking. That was weird, she thought, unable to shake the feeling. She looked around, paranoid, until she felt it again. Still, there was nothing there. She was jumpy by the time she made it to her room, only to realize what was wrong. Her mother's journal, which she had taken with her to keep any more unwanted eyes from it, was missing.

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><p>Nikolai stared down at the book in his hands, shock ringing through his brain. He couldn't believe what he had just read. Surely this was a joke. His mother was a damn little cheat! How had he not noticed it before? It was no wonder why his father was so pissed. But he couldn't believe that the man had been behind her death. She had been sick, hadn't she? For as long as he cold remember, she had aways had sick spells. But what if he had been poisoning her for that whole time? No, Nikolai refused to believe it. The rest had been much, much more interesting, though. He looked up and sighed, shaking his head. What did his sister think she was getting herself into? Didn't she know how dangerous this book was? Why hadn't she burned the letter the first chance she got? Go figure, his mischievous little Colletta was going to get herself killed because she wanted to go against the grain. He didn't get it. Why couldn't she just be like other girls her age? She should have been going out to parties and having a good time and throwing loads of money at frivolous things, not plotting against her grandfather of all people, and especially not getting caught up in things she didn't understand. With a flick of his wrist, he shut the journal and started looking for Charlotte. Regardless how irresponsible she was being, he owed it to her to keep an eye out for her. He would need to get Charlotte to convince her to burn the letter. And he needed to do it soon.<p>

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><p><strong>I do try to edit these as best as I can, but if I missed anything, please let me know! I hate having errors in my stories.<strong>


	17. Chapter 16

**Rambling Beauty**

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><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen<strong>

_Snow Mansion_

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><p>This was it. Reaping Day was among them finally. Colletta only had to wait a little bit longer before she got to see Finnick. As per their usual family tradition, she was perched in their overly large entertainment room on a gold brocade armchair. It was her favorite seat in the room, do to how unsuitable it was for the room and how pretty it was. She couldn't help it if she had a weakness for pretty and shiny things. Everyone was in his or her usual seats, with members of her grandfather's administration strewn about here and there as they joined in for the celebrations. The day had the feeling of a holiday to it, like Christmas or New Years. A buffet was spread out in the back of the room, the table over flowing with elegant dishes and desserts. Another table on the adjoining wall was laden with beverages, including certain a certain clear liquid that Colletta despised with a passion. She didn't get how people could indulge themselves at the expense of the suffering of others.<p>

They were in between districts, taking a break from the tense silence to discuss what they thought of the chosen tributes so far. District Four was next and Colletta actually felt a thrill of anticipation. She only ever attended the events out of necessity and couldn't stand to actually watch the Games. Would they show Finnick, she wondered for the millionth time that morning. She didn't see any reason why they wouldn't. He was still wildly popular in the Capitol. She wondered if the citizens would ever tire of him. But who could ever tire of someone like him?

"You look lost in thought."

Colletta turned to find her brother, dashing in a casual suit of grey, leaning against the chair next to hers. He had a quirk of a smile, evidence that he had been hitting the beverage table a little too hard, and his hair was mussed. But his eyes were as sober as death. God, when did she get so morbid?

"Just thinking," she finally responded, looking away as the screen flashed to a recap of the previous Reaping. They only had a few more minutes before Four.

"About?" He inquired. He had been very involved in her life the past few days and his curiosity never seemed to wane. But by the knowing look he gave her, she knew that he was only goading her. "Let me guess, there's a certain Victor on your mind today." She blushed, which only encouraged his teasing. "Do you think he'll seek you out when he gets back, or will you two be secretly meeting in the Training Center?"

"Are you drunk?" She blurted before she could stop herself. He didn't know about anything that had actually happened between her and Finnick, so he couldn't know how badly his words hurt. Or how spot on they were. But not for the right reasons, she thought forlornly.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment, frowning. "Its just been one hell of a day."

"What's wrong?" Colletta asked, all concern for her and Finnick flying out the window. She sat up and gave him her full attention.

"Its nothing," he sighed, rubbing his temples. It was an act that made him look very much like their mother. "Just girl problems."

"Who is it that I need to beat up?" She stood up and placed a consoling hand on his shoulder. Really, the amount of women who thought that they could buy her brother's affection pissed her off.

He shook his head and wiggled out of her grasp. Nikolai didn't need his baby sister to fight his battles for him. And besides, the girl wasn't the problem. It was him. But no one needed to know that. "No one. She honestly has no idea."

Colletta grunted in understanding. "I know the feeling."

"Trouble in Finnick paradise?"

"Shut up," she hissed, sitting back down in her seat before some newbie could take it. Everyone knew that the gold brocade wingback was hers, damnit. "Someone might hear you. That's the last thing I need."

"One minute until Reaping time!" Someone shouted to the room at large, causing a great cacophony as everyone tried to get to their seats in time, while still holding on to their conversations. Colletta watched with absolute horror as someone took her mother's usual seat. It was much to soon for this.

"We'll talk later," Nikolai told her as he followed her gaze with narrowed eyes. She watched as he went off to remove the person from the seat.

The Reaping of District Four was just as uneventful as Reapings go. Boring speeches were made, they only gave Finnick a few extra seconds of camera time, names were called, and stronger Career types volunteered to take the places of the chosen Tributes. Colletta did try to pay attention to who Finnick would be mentoring, but by that time, she was already half asleep. How could the children stand through that? As it was, she was slouched down in her seat, paying no mind to how bad her lacy white mini dress would wrinkle, with her legs tucked up and about two seconds away from falling asleep. Everyone else in the room was animatedly chatting away at the odds the Tributes had, trying to figure out who to back and what not. Colletta had never given much thought to backing a Tribute before. She eyed the male Tribute from Four. He was eighteen and buff, but with an expressionless face and dead eyes. The girl standing next to him was about half his size, with pride in her sea green eyes (the same as Finnick's), standing tall and confident. If she had to back someone, this girl looked like the person to back, not her robotic partner. Merrow, she noted, was the girl's name. Chitin was the boy's.

"Thinking of sponsoring anyone?" An unfamiliar voice cut through her thoughts.

Colletta looked up to find the chair next to her was now occupied by a large man in a flattering shade of green who was giving her a wide smile. "What?"

"I asked if you were thinking of backing anyone." He said in a smooth voice. When she shook her head— her default answer— he kept going. "I myself prefer to see an underdog win. Maybe someone from twelve will pull through this year."

"I'm sorry," she snapped, unable to control her disgust, "who are you?"

"Ah, forgive me," he chortled, nonplussed, "How rude of me not to introduce myself! I am Plutarch Heavensbee. How do you do?" He extended a hand for her to shake.

And for what felt like the millionth time that week, Colletta was completely gob-smacked. And if she was being completely honest, a little in awe. This was the man who could get her in with the rebels. This man was her ticket to a more equal Panem.

"I am doing well enough, given the circumstances," she told him, playing nice for once. "I mostly just can't wait for the Victory Feast."

She watched for his reaction. It was just the smallest quirk to his smile, but it was there.

"I know the feeling. It is such a shame that your mother is no longer with us to experience these Games." He looked away, his smile no longer there.

Colletta nodded, looking over to her mother's empty chair. "I think she intended for me to carry on her legacy."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him nodding slowly, still caught in his own misery. "Indeed." After a moment of silence that felt too long, he asked, "How is your sister?"

Colletta looked up, surprised that he asked so bold a question. Though, if her father already knew, then what was the use of hiding Plutarch's interest? Mina, the lucky duck, was tucked away in bed for her nap. Being so young, she was still exempt from attending the less formal events. "She is well. I think that she is still too young to truly understand what happened."

Plutarch nodded. Time was called again and he excused himself away to get a drink before the next Reaping began. She didn't blame him; she needed one too. And lucky for her, Nikolai was on his way with two glasses of sparkling blue drinks.

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><p>Nikolai watched with rapt fascination as the man that supposedly fathered Mina spoke in low tones to his other sister. What did the man think he was doing, taking over his family like that? Colletta didn't need this sort of attention. But she didn't look to bothered. In fact, he noted, she looked as if she was enjoying his company. The thought made Nikolai's stomach churn. He didn't trust Plutarch Heavensbee. Part of it could have been that the man was plotting to over throw his family. What did Colletta think would happen to her if the rebellion they were planning was successful? She was a Snow, no matter how much she pretended she wasn't. They would tear her apart afterwords. And if they weren't successful, then their father would have her head. But then part of him was jealous of her. She had the courage that he would always lack. It was a little known fact that he couldn't stand half of what his family did, but he preferred it that way. Dissenters always ended up dead. But Colletta always found a way to transcend that. She was one of the most outspoken opponents of the Hunger Games, and maybe of the Capitol itself, but she always played it off that she wasn't. No one knew just how big a threat she could be if given the right tools. And here Heavensbee was, just handing them to her. He was handing her own death to her. Nikolai turned away in disgust. No matter what he thought of his grandfather's regime, he would never stoop so low as to join Plutarch Heavensbee.<p>

"Mister Snow?" His heart stopped for a second as the voice he cherished reverberated through his mind. "Is everything alright?"

Nikolai looked up at Charlotte, the only object of his affection, and gave her his most winning smile. He wasn't sure when he started to feel for her, but it seemed like every time he saw her, his love grew stronger.

"Just being overly protective brother again," he replied with a wink. He relished how flustered that made the maid. But this was all he could ever have with her. His father would never allow him to become involved with her.

"She appreciates it," Charlotte responded, holding a very heavy tray of drinks. "You know she does."

"I do." He said, eying the tray. Charlotte looked as if she would break under its weight. Really, who's idea was it for Colletta's personal maid to be a server? This was what they had Avoxes for. "Can you handle that?"

She gave him a strained smile as the tray wobbled. Any second she would drop it. He called over an Avox that looked to be doing nothing and instructed for him to take the tray. As the boy walked away, he grabbed two drinks. They had just called time and he had a little sister to console.

"Thank you, Mister Snow." Charlotte was saying.

"Think nothing of it," he said as he turned away. "And please, its Nikolai. Mister Snow is my father."

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><p><strong>AN: Guh. So, I've been suffering from major writer's block. Idk. I just feel burnt out on this story. I feel like I might need a short hiatus to rekindle my fuel for this story. I need some time to focus on original work. And maybe the occasional fanfic or so that's not this one. So if it ends up being a good few months before my next update (or even longer), you have fair warning. For once. I'm hoping that I will just need to reread THG to get my groove back and that the wait wont be too long. Shit was just starting to get real!<strong>

**Go review now so that I feel inspired to get the next chapter written quickly!  
><strong>


	18. Chapter 17

**Hey Guys! Long time no see! Look! I have a present for you! It's an actual update! So, sorry for the long wait. I just needed a break from writing. And then Nano started and I decided to procrastinate on writing when I'm a good couple of thousand words behind with this. You all better love me for this. J/K. I enjoyed writing this chapter when it got down to it. Hopefully I'll have another update soon. Happy reading!**

**Disclaimer: I was going through to look at how I have this story formatted and I giggle-snorted at how my disclaimers got more and more uninspired. I don't own anything you guys recognize!**

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><p><strong>Rambling Beauty<strong>

**Chapter Seventeen**

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><p>Colletta fidgeted nervously in the lush red seat. It was the first time she had ever shown an interest in the Games and she worried what everyone would think of it. Was it suspicious of her to be here? True, her motives were nefarious (after all, Heavensbee was a Gamemaker; this was the perfect opportunity to find out more about the rebels), but that didn't mean that she had to come under scrutiny, did it? The Tributes were due to be filing in soon, with the intimidating Atala waiting patiently down below, her arms crossed behind her back. Colletta tried to focus and relax. If she looked nervous, that would only be more reason to throw her into suspicion.<p>

"Miss Snow!" She heard someone greet her. She looked up to see Seneca Crane standing not too far away, his handsome face twisted into confusion. "I didn't know that you would be joining us today."

"Of course," she said in her most haughty tone. "It's no secret that Finnick Odair is a dear friend. I just wish to make sure his Tribute does well." Colletta offered him what she hoped was a threatening smile. Sometimes being a Snow had its charm.

He seemed to get her fake hidden message. "Yes," he said, "I'm sure that he will score very high." With a slight nod in her direction, he headed over to the Head Gamemaker's seat.

When he was far enough away, Colletta let out a sigh of relief. That had been a close one. There was no doubt that word of her appearance would be making its way back to her grandfather, but hopefully she had enough of an alibi now. She was just starting to relax into her chair a little bit more when someone else sat next to her. It was Heavensbee in a plum colored suit with a monocle (really?) and a slip of paper rolled up and mostly hidden in his hand.

"What a pleasant surprise, Miss Snow." He said in a jovial voice. "Are you here to keep us Gamemakers in line?"

"Naturally," she joked back. "Due to recent events, I figured it's high time that I become more… involved in the community."

"That's good to hear." He dropped the paper and made to lean down and get it.

"Here," she said, taking the hint. "Allow me." As she leant down to get it, she unrolled it and saw that it had an address and a time scrawled almost illegibly.

"It's good to know that the next generations are doing something with their lives." Plutarch was saying as she came back up.

"Of course." She slid the roll of paper up her sleeve and received a wink for her effort.

"Look at that!" He said, flipping open a pocket watch. "I must go take my seat at the front. It was a good chat, Miss Snow."

"Indeed," Colletta smiled as he made his way to the front, taking a seat next to the snake Crane. It had been a _very_ good chat.

That night Colletta paced around her room, feeling like a caged Mutt, her jittery nerves making her feel trapped. She was garbed from head-to-toe in black, having not a clue what one wore to covert meetings held for the sole purpose of over-throwing the government. In normal cases, she would just ask Charlotte, but she had decided that Charlotte was to be left in the dark on this. She couldn't shake the feeling that this was wrong, somehow. By over-throwing the government, they would be over-turning her family. Did that make her a traitor? She couldn't help but think, though, that her family could get out of this unharmed. After all, her grandfather was an excellent leader for the Capitol. It was just in the Districts that he lacked. And really, how much of that was his fault? He had just been made President after the cruel system of the Hunger Games was put in place. It wasn't really his fault, she reasoned; it was the people that came before him. Surely the rebels would see that and gave him leniency. Colletta sighed; thinking like this was getting her nowhere. She wanted to make a change in the world, and this was her way to do it. At the rate that she was going, she would freeze up and never get to the meeting in time. The clock on the wall ticked away, counting down the seconds until it was time to leave. She wasn't sure if she could do it. What if she got caught? What if someone recognized her? She was in disguise, her long hair stuffed under a short, bright blue wig and contacts coloring her eyes a silver-white. The look was a few seasons old, but she didn't care. No one would expect a Snow to be anything but fashionable, especially her. For, while she was dedicated to not giving into the trends that plagued the Capitol, Charlotte was perhaps the most fashion-conscious person in the entire country.

The clock finally chimed that it was time to go. Colletta carefully snuck out the window she had propped open earlier, having given Charlotte and excuse about it being too hot, and dropped down into the hedgerow beneath her. She had been prepared for a hard landing, but it hurt all the same. Rubbing her back, Colletta gathered her wits about her and slunk across the expansive lawn. There were guard posts every so often, she knew, and motion sensors were scattered about the place, but she kept to the brush and the shadows, hoping that she could evade both. The last thing she needed was to have a swarm of Tracker Jackers after her. She made a mental note to find a map or something for next time. Eventually she made it to the edge of the property, her muscles stiff from being hunched over the entire time. She crawled, very ungracefully, over the wrought-iron fence. It looked like she was going to have to add working out to her ever-growing list of espionage-things-to-do. Colletta dropped down on the other side, panting, and checked to make sure that there was no one around to see her. The street looked empty. She took off at a very slow jog, going over her plan in her mind. She was going to get far enough away from the City Circle and catch a cab. And then she would have it drop her off a few streets away and walk the rest of the way. It was, in her mind, foolproof. She hailed a yellow car when she was far enough away and climbed in, little knowing the events she was setting into motion.

Nikolai watched as his sister danced, a little over-dramatically if he was being honest, through the mine-field that was their yard. He looked down at the hologram in front of him and pushed a button, disabling yet another trap that she had waltzed into. She was foolish to think that she was getting away with this. It was only luck that the President and their father were both too busy to take notice. He watched from the security camera— which he had made damn sure no one else had access to— as she struggled over the fence. Again, he had to turn off its defenses. Now that she was out of sight he switched the controls back to the actual security personnel and switched on the tracking device he had Charlotte plant on her. His poor sister really had no clue.

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><p><strong>Duh duh duhn! Really gotta love Nikolai, right? Sorry if there are any mistakes or anything. I'm still in Nano mode, so editing is a bit meh. Review?<strong>


	19. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I don't even own this kitten that is trying to cuddle with me and is making typing really hard right now.**

**Rambling Beauty**

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><p><strong>Chapter Eighteen<strong>

_Somewhere in the Capitol_

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><p>Colletta waited impatiently at the nondescript door, trying to hide her nerves and trying not to shift from foot to foot. Finally, the door creaked open just a hair.<p>

"What is your business?" A thick voice asked from the empty darkness.

"Uh…" What was she supposed to say? That she was here for the super-secret whatever was going on to over-throw her grandfather? "Plutarch directed me here," she tried, hoping that she didn't get him in trouble or anything. The door slammed shut in her face, the whoosh of air disturbing a few strands of her wig. Colletta flinched. Her heart was hammering away in her ribcage, thundering like a summer storm. Had she said something wrong? Oh, god, they were going to send her away, or she had the wrong address or they were really Peace Keepers in there or—

"Come in." Colletta looked up at the command to see that the door had opened again, this time wide enough for her to get through. A cheery light escaped into the empty street, bringing with it the aroma of cinnamon and something else. It was so much more welcoming than it had been a few seconds ago. She straightened her shoulders and walked straight in, putting on her brightest smile that she had to offer her people.

Inside, the entry way was as grand as could be expected from even working class Capitol citizens. Colletta had heard that most of her citizens went bankrupt just to appear a certain way to the rest of the city. It made her sad that they would do that to themselves. This particular home had an ornate grand staircase in the entry way that curved along the entire way, its banister decorated in black and gold, the carpet an appealing crème color that matched the not-quite beige walls. In the center of the entry way, was a mosaic that showed a picture of what appeared to be some kind of bird. Colletta couldn't quite make it out around the queue of people milling around tables that looked ready to buckle under the weight of all the food.

"Ah!" She heard and turned to see Plutarch Heavensbee coming straight at her. She smiled at him, with his monocle and his suit that looked ready to explode. It was a shade of sea-green that made him look sallow skinned and ill. She refrained from mentioning this to him, of course.

"Mister Heavensbee," she greeted him politely.

"What a clever disguise, Miss Snow." He complimented. "I almost didn't recognize you at first."

"Good," she shot back, secretly please with herself and totally basking in his praise. "I had hoped that would be the case."

"Please," he said, taking her arm gently and guiding her around the room, "grab some food and I can introduce you to everyone important."

Colletta forced a grin at that. "I don't think I can partake of a meal like this when there are those in the Districts literally starving to death."

He chortled at her response as if she had made some inane joke. But he didn't force the issue and instead took her around the room, introducing her as her mother's daughter. She was surprised by how many familiar faces she saw. How many of her grandfather's people were secretly against him? There was Ludwig Vanavict, one of his advisers. Hopefully news of her appearance wouldn't reach her grandfather through him. And then there was the news anchor, Celestia Gorgoes. She made sure to force a smile at the woman's scowl. _Damn reporters_. And there were countless others.

"So what exactly are we doing here?" She eventually asked Plutarch in between schmoozes. "Is this just a party to talk about how much Panem sucks, or are we going to be working towards real change?"

He chortled at her again, though she failed to see what was funny, and led her to a black metal door that was hidden behind a potted tree. "These people are a part of the rebellion but they are only sources. They don't want to do any of the actual dirty work that you and I are going to be more involved in." He gave a series of raps on the door and it opened soundlessly.

Colletta stepped into the dimly lit room. This room was more of what she expected. It was not a fancy party and no one in here was eating. That was a major plus. A woman with magenta skin and gold stars dyed on her skin sat at the head of the table, next to two empty seats, her hands folded in front of her. She was bald, Colletta noted, and her eyebrows were a series of gold studs. Some of those seated with her were more innocuous, others less so. Colletta tried to appear worthy of whatever was going on in this secret room, but failed as she stumbled after Heavensbee towards the empty seats. He sat down next to the bald woman and motioned for her to take the empty seat.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to inform you that we will finally be able to infiltrate the Snow family." He told them, looking quite pleased with himself. "I present you, Miss Colletta Snow, here to take her mother's seat at this table and hopefully provide us with such services as the late Mrs. Snow had."

Colletta swallowed. That didn't exactly sound pleasant. Every watched her hawkishly and expectantly. Was she supposed to make some speech? She settled for a nervous wave and a mumbled greeting.

"She doesn't look like much," the bald woman said, her voice deep and strong. "And she is too young, Heavensbee. What use could she possibly be to us?"

"Ah!" Plutarch beamed, as if he was hoping she would ask that particular question. "But she could be the most important piece to our very scheming puzzle. She will infiltrate the President's office and home and no one will suspect her. She has always been a little rebel in the family, so no one will be surprised if she slips up, and she will always be close to the enemy."

Colletta's stomach churned at the thought of her grandfather being the enemy. She felt like she was getting in over her head.

"But she is just a child!" Another woman, this one with skin the color of coffee and a gold faux-hawk, exclaimed. "It is too dangerous for her."

"But the President would never expect it!" A man with a parrot green feather sticking out of his head argued. "She won't get caught."

Faux-hawk huffed in agitation. "You fool," she spat, "her mother wasn't supposed to get caught either and now she is dead. By her husband's hand. Imagine what the President would do if he found her snooping around?"

"But," Colletta argued, her voice shaky, "Grandpa wouldn't hurt me."

Faux-hawk affixed her with her golden eyes, making her shrink back in her seat. "Do you know what kind of man your _grandpa_ is, little girl?"

Colletta blinked at her, afraid to learn the truth behind the question. Hadn't her mother said that her grandfather wasn't to be trusted? She wasn't sure if she could face the music anymore. Now she definitely knew that she was in over her head.

The woman shook her head, whether in pity or anger Colletta wasn't sure. She then rapped something on the table and an image flickered up from the middle. "Your grandfather has been killing people that were supposed to be his allies for decades, since long before you were even thought of."

Colletta gasped. "That can't be true."

"Can't it?" The woman asked, looking as satisfied as Heavensbee had earlier. Now that poor man looked lost, like he wanted to be there less than Colletta did. She typed into the table again and the image cleared up to show the visage of a middle age man. "This is Apollon Grey. I'm sure you've heard of him before."

Colletta went cold. The Death Room. She had seen him in the Death Room, with all the other covered-up deaths. She knew what the woman was going to tell her about his death; poisoned. As with the next one, Peter Mars.

"Please," Colletta whispered, softly, but loud enough for the room to hear. "I know how these men died."

"Do you?" Plutarch blurted, surprised.

Colletta nodded. "Someone kept a bunch of files on a bunch of poisonings that had been covered up back home. I found it one day and got curious. But my father is supposed to be behind this. How does this have anything to do with my grandfather?"

"Your father?" Faux-hawk asked, raising a delicately arched eyebrow. "While it pleases me that you aren't about to defend _that_ monster, your father wasn't even born yet when some of these deaths occurred. They weren't your father's doing, they were your grandfather's."

A chair scraped back on the floor and Colletta realized that it was hers. "No," She said. "No, my grandfather isn't a murderer."

"Miss Snow, please," Plutarch cooed, trying to placate her. She looked around at the people in the room, all of them shocked by her outburst, and felt ashamed. She turned to Faux-hawk, who had crossed her arms over her chest, and gave her a desperate look.

"He can't be." She hated to sound so weak, but what was a girl supposed to do when her entire world was crashing down around her? Of course, it made sense when she thought about it. All of these people had been a threat to his career, and he was very much in love with his career. But just because it made sense didn't make it suck any less. Her vision blurred with tears as she silently begged the woman with the faux-hawk to be lying. The woman had the grace to look ashamed for the bomb that she had just dropped, at least. Colletta took a shaky step back.

"I…" She tried, and then she turned and ran. She ran out of the room, through the party goers, and out to the street. She ran as fast and as hard as she could, as if trying to escape the truth. She ran until her legs screamed and her eyes dried. And eventually she found herself standing in front of the Training Center. There was no escaping the truth, but that didn't mean that she couldn't be comforted from it, she thought as she stared up at the floor where she assumed Finnick was being housed.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long! I meant to have this chapter up right after Christmas, and then again last week, but you know how busy it can get this time of year... Anyways, how was everyone's New Years? Any resolutions anyone made? Leave it in a review! Mine was to finish this beast, which if I keep writing regularly is actually possible. Part One of this story is almost at a close. At least as I have it planned. If the character's keep running away with it, it might be another year or so. Let's hope that that doesn't happen, since I have another part to this and then a sequel planned. So, leave a review and let me know what you think!


	20. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

**AN: Omg, guys! It actually isn't taking me half a year to update! So, this chapter was actually really hard to write, and even harder to edit. Idk why. I've been looking forward to this moment since I started the story. Anywhos, if y'all would be so kind as to leave a little review after you read it, that would be much appreciated. You could even make it a birthday present for me, since my birthday is next weekend!**

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><p><strong>Rambling Beauty<strong>

**Chapter Nineteen**

_The Training Center_

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><p>Colletta was a mess. Her make-up was smeared and her wig was off-kilter and her eyes were red and puffy. She stared at her reflection in the mirror-like surface of the elevator door, but couldn't bring herself to care. Finnick had seen much <em>much<em> worse from her. Her entire body was on fire. She really was out of shape. If she was going to be a spy, then she would probably need to work on that. But did she even want to be a spy anymore? _Yes_, she thought, looking away from her refection. Even though it broke her heart to think about it, there was no way she could let the people of Panem suffer any longer.

The elevator chimed as it jolted to a stop. The doors slid open and she stepped into the lobby of the fourth floor. The tinkling sound of flatware against china met her first, bringing her back to reality. What was she doing? Colletta mental cursed her rashness and turned back to the elevator and its mirror-like surface. She really was a mess. She yanked the wig off of her head and snatched the clips out that held her hair back. It tumbled to her shoulders and down her back, cascading in a mass of tangles and frizz. That helped a little but not much. She dragged the back of her hand under her eyes and rubbed away her smeared make-up. Better. It was as good as she was going to get, anyways. With a sigh, Colletta squared her shoulders and marched in the direction that the sound came from.

She rounded a corner and found that Finnick was still at dinner. He sat at a round table of dark wood with his Tribute to his right and the other mentor to his left. Next to the elderly mentor was the female Tribute, and in between the Tributes was their escort. Avoxes flitted around the room, refilling their drinks and making them comfortable. Still half-hidden behind the rounded wall, Colletta stepped out, trying for all the world to not look like she had just had a break-down. That was for Finnick to know only. The reaction was immediate and visceral. The elderly mentor was the first to see her, stopping mid-sentence and staring at her with a knowing look. It made Colletta uncomfortable. Everyone turned to see what the woman was staring at, and everyone stared back at her in shock. The escort dropped his fork, an audible gasp escaping from him. He looked close to tears at the very sight of her.

"Miss Snow!" He exclaimed. "The President's granddaughter! To what do we owe this pleasure?!" He waived a handkerchief around in an exaggerated fashion, mopping at his face and fanning himself with it. Colletta narrowed her eyes at him before turning back to the group at large.

"Err," she tried, finding herself unable to meet Finnick's eye. "Is this a bad time?"

Finnick, thankfully, was to one that answered. "No," he said, getting up, his chair scraping loudly against the polished floor. "Not at all. Is everything okay?"

It was a testament to how close they had become that she didn't need to answer him. She bit her lip and looked down for a second. When she looked back up, she met his eyes, trying to express how badly she needed her best friend.

Finnick looked back to the table. "Sorry," he told them giving his easy grin. "I'm needed."

He motioned for her to follow him before heading down a hallway that splintered off from the main room. He led her to a room that branched off from it and sat down on the large bed that took up half of the room. She gingerly sat next to him, wondering how to even explain why she was there.

"What happened?" He asked, taking in her disheveled appearance and the wig still clutched tightly in her shaking hands.

Colletta took a shaky breath and leaned against him. He wrapped his arms around her and the next thing she knew, she was crying again.

"He's a monster." She cried into his chest, vaguely aware that she might be ruining his shirt.

Finnick rubbed circles into her back, clutching her tightly. "Who is?"

She hiccupped and pulled back. How would she even begin? "I… its dangerous telling you this." She finally admitted.

"Telling me what?" He asked, taking her hands. "Are you in trouble?"

She shook her head. "No, but I am in over my head." And then she broke. She told him everything, from her mother's letter, to the death room, to the meeting that she had just fled from. She told it all to him in hushed tones, hoping that he wouldn't reject her after all of this. When she was finished, he sat back, staring at the wall that reflected a coastal scene. The tropical sky was littered with more stars than she had ever seen in her life, a fat moon reflecting off of the crashing waves.

"Well?" She finally asked, turning away from the scenery to catch his expression. But it was the stony expression of a Victor.

"Well indeed." He finally said. "It would seem that you really are in over your head." He sighed, turning away from the window, and from her. "What do you plan to do?"

Colletta shrugged. She knew that she still wanted to fight, but she wasn't sure if she could anymore. "He… he's never been that way towards us," she tried to explain. "He's always been so kind and loving to us."

"If there is anything that President Snow cares about, it's his family." Finnick agreed, taking her hands again. "But that doesn't make him a good man. He's killed people, Colletta. In cold blood too, if what you're telling me is true."

"I know," she said, burying her face in her hands. "I just don't know what to think."

Finnick sighed and pulled her into a gentle embrace. "You'll figure it out." He promised. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

Colletta gave him a weak smile. "You think so?"

"I know so."

She pulled back and looked up at him. "You're really good at this whole comforting thing." She told him honestly. "I… would it be okay if I stayed with you tonight? I don't think I can handle alone just yet."

"Yeah," he said, his face lighting up. "It will be just like old times."

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><p>"You do realize," Finnick said, plopping down next to her on the fainting couch, "that the rumors are probably going to start flying again, right?"<p>

Colletta shrugged as she leaned against him. Even in the middle of summer the evening breeze left her chilled. The whole of the Capitol was spread before them; Finnick had insisted on some fresh air for the still shell-shocked Colletta and had dragged her out to the balcony that wrapped around the Fourth floor. The city before them was a writhing see of lights and colors as Capitol citizens celebrated the oncoming Hunger Games.

"Let them think what they will." She told him sagely, wrapping her arms around herself. "I don't really care anymore."

"Did you ever?"

Her lips quirked up in an imitation of a smile. "Touché." She had forgotten how much she missed just being with Finnick and laying it all bare for him. He was her rock, and she had nearly forgotten how much she truly clung to him. It was nice to be away from the pretense and judging; nice to be just friends again. "Is it weird?" She asked, looking up at him.

"What?" Finnick stared down at her, his expression slack and confused.

"To be back in all of this? With the Mentoring and everything; is it weird to be back in the Games?" She wasn't even sure why she was asking; she knew that he hated to think of his time in the Arena.

He shrugged. "A little. I keep waking up and expecting it to be my last day." He gave her a pained smile. "Being a Mentor is definitely different. I mean, I have this kid's life in my hands. And then there is the _constant_ schmoozing and ass-kissing. Ugh." He made a sound like retching before growing more serious. "And I keep thinking about what you told me."

"When?" She asked, snuggling against him. There were a lot of things that she had told him.

"When we first officially met." He clarified. "You warned that I was going to be a sex slave."

"Did I?" She asked before shrugging it off. "I won't let them have you."

Finnick wrapped his strong arms around her. "As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I don't think that you could stop them."

"I dunno. I am my grandfather's favorite after all. I probably have _some_ sway."

He sighed desolately. "I certainly hope so. I don't want my first time to be with some dinosaur old woman."

Colletta chocked back a startled laugh. "Oh god— or some decrepit old man!" He chortled against her for a second before turning serious again. "I'm sorry, this isn't something to joke about."

"It's fine."

An idea occurred to her then, one that made her heart race and that she had only ever dreamed of before. "You know," she started hesitantly, "if you don't find someone else before your birthday…"

"Yeah?" He peered down at her.

"I- I- I wouldn't mind, you know…" She stammered, finding herself unable to finish her sentence. Her face was hot and she could feel tears of humiliation pricking at her eyes. She blinked them back and hoped that she wouldn't have to further clarify.

He met her eyes with understanding written crystal clear in his own. His lips quirked in a half-smile and he brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "I'm holding you to that."

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><p><strong>Oh, and also, I realized that their are some major inconsistencies throughout this story when I was editing. And in my formatting, too. It's funny; you can go through the chapters and see how lazyrushed I was feeling when I uploaded them. But anyways, I probably won't go back and fix anything until I'm done with the entire story. But I definitely will do. If you guys spot any inconsistencies, or even a hiccup with anything else, let me know. It's super embarrassing to have errors.**


	21. Chapter 20

**AN: **So, short chapter is better than no chapter. Sorry for taking forever with this one. You have no idea how bad my writer's block has been lately (for the past six months or so). Every time I would try to write this, I would come up blank or it would feel to forced and contrived, and you guys deserve better than forced or contrived. As always, I edit these the best that I can, but I am bad at editing, so if you catch anything please let me know. Read on and enjoy!

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><p><strong>Rambling Beauty<strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty<strong>

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><p>Colletta stared at the note in her hand, her heart pumping hard. They were giving her a second chance. They were fucking giving her a second chance! She closed her eyes and tried to quell the excitement building in her. It wouldn't do for her to show that she had something to be excited about, she reasoned. She had to put on like nothing was out of the ordinary. She allowed herself a small smile before turning to Charlotte, who had watched the entire reaction with a bemused expression. Colletta shrugged her inquiries off.<p>

"It's from Finnick." She lied. "Nothing important."

"Sure." Charlotte drawled. "And what does Mister Odaire say?"

"Just that he misses hanging out with me." That might have been true, but it wasn't what the note said. What it did say was a lot more classified than that. She was in. She just had to get to the meeting place again and prove that she wasn't bugged or spying on them for her grandfather. Which she totally wasn't. If anything, she was about to start doing to opposite. The note had made it very clear that she was only valuable to them in her connection to her Grandfather. If she messed this up again, she was out and they would find someone else to take her place. It was a good thing she wasn't going to mess up this time. No mental breakdowns, no freaking out. She had to be cool and collected; she had to be a Snow.

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><p>Time seemed to take forever as she waited for the appointed day and time to arrive. Everything blurred in slow motion. Everything except for her time with Finnick. He was going to be too busy for time with her soon and then he would be whisked away to District Four once the Games were over. She milked every second she could spend with him for what it was up until the Games started. At the party her family held to watch the opening of the Games, she put in a show and made herself watch the bloodbath stoically; if anything it would give her practice for the meeting with the Revolutionaries that was taking place that night to not freak out when she was screaming on the inside. From across the room, Heavensbee gave her a wink, and she felt mildly reassured. Everything would be fine, she told herself. This was nothing new; look, the Tribute she was backing was still alive!<p>

She wasn't sure how she managed to get through the airing of the Games, but when she was finally relieved from her duties as a Snow and hostess, she was surprised to find that she was still in one piece. Colletta padded to her room in a daze, running through everything that she had to do in her head. Security would be easier to get passed to night, what with the party and all- the Peace Keepers were more concerned with keeping people out than in. And without Charlotte, she would be able to get ready easier. She dressed herself head to toe in black and stuffed her long brown hair under a black cloche hat. She felt like a burglar as she got ready, from her black tight pants to her snug black sweater and the knee-high boots she wore. No one would suspect her of being the President's Granddaughter, not with how conspicuously she was dressed. Just to be sure no one got a glimpse of her face, she smears black kohl all around her eyes. If Charlotte asked what the fuck happened to her make-up, she could always claim to have been experimenting with new looks, she reasoned. When she was reasonably satisfied, she slipped out of her window and into the night, being careful to land less painfully than before.

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><p>"So then," Colletta drawled as she leaned back in her seat, "let me get this right. You want me to spy on my Grandfather for you?"<p>

She had been rather proud of herself this time around. The meeting was being held in the same place as before, sans wild party in the foyer. Apparently these people also couldn't stand the senseless death of the Games also. It filled her with a sense of hope to know that she wasn't alone in that mindset. Maybe, she thought, I can trust these people. The woman with the faux-hawk gave her a raised eyebrow that was heavily pierced.

"Is that too much for you, Princess?" She asked, her tone challenging.

Colletta shook her head. Her hair was free from its confines in the cloche and fell in her face. She wondered how she must look to these people, with black shit around her eyes and her monotone outfit. "Its just a little obvious, isn't it?"

"Which is why it will work so well. So far as out sources know, the government doesn't even know about us yet. No one will suspect the President's doting granddaughter of being a spy. Are you in or not?"

Colletta gave them a sly grin. Oh, she was so in.

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><p><strong>Reviews are love. Hopefully now that I have this monster written I can get back in the groove of things and it won't take me another year to update.<strong>


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